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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26400856">Limits v2.0</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/A_Fool_in_Love/pseuds/A_Fool_in_Love'>A_Fool_in_Love</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Android Gore (Detroit: Become Human), Angst, Anti-Android Sentiments (Detroit: Become Human), Being Dragged Into a Character Redemption Arc Kicking and Screaming, Canon Rewrite, Character Development, Connor (Detroit: Become Human) Whump, Connor Deserves Happiness, Depersonalization, Depression, Deviancy, Deviant Connor (Detroit: Become Human), Dissociation, Gen, Government Conspiracy, Hurt No Comfort, Hurt and Some Reluctant Comfort, Just don't get too comfortable, Machine Connor (Detroit: Become Human), Manipulation, Okay there's hurt and comfort, Psychological, Rewrite, Suicidal Thoughts, Violent Android Revolution (Detroit: Become Human)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-09-11</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-04-18</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 11:02:50</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Graphic Depictions Of Violence</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>70</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>239,939</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26400856</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/A_Fool_in_Love/pseuds/A_Fool_in_Love</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Hank knows that machines can't care or fear or be hurt. Connor agrees but for some reason that pisses Hank off... There's something not right about CyberLife's involvement with the police and there's something not right about Connor. The sooner he can get rid of him the better.</p><p>Connor is finally in beta testing after rigorous optimization and validation. "Outside" is full of colours and smells. People say things that don't mean what they sound like they mean. Androids are meant to make life easier for humans, but not all humans are happy about it. The mission is most important though. Once he has passed beta testing he will be perfect- Amanda said so- therefore he must be perfect to pass beta. He'll finally be good enough and worthy of all of the time and money CyberLife has spent on him.</p><p>Also known as Limits (REWRITE): The original (Limits) is still posted but this is now the working copy. The concepts explored are the same, but this is turning out very differently.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Amanda &amp; Connor (Detroit: Become Human), Connor &amp; CyberLife Employees (Detroit: Become Human), Connor &amp; Detroit Police Department Officers (Detroit: Become Human), Connor &amp; Markus (Detroit: Become Human), Hank Anderson &amp; Connor, Hank Anderson &amp; Jeffrey Fowler</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>401</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>346</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. What it Seems</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Sorry, everyone! I really couldn't get Limits right the first time. Too many time jumps and too little continuity. I'm going to make this iteration much better than the last...</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Hank slouched in the chair opposite Jeff’s desk and asked “So, what’s up?” casually. Jeff was either going to ask about a case, or he was going to warn Hank about an inspection or something. It was 11:30am, which was barely fucking morning, so he hoped it wasn’t going to be any new shit to deal with. He already came in to like 50 emails a day and a bunch of beat cops in uniform asking him questions. When he’d gone after that promotion to Lieutenant, he’d kind of thought that the desk work would be good. Good for the family, safer, still interesting as long as he could consult on cases...</p><p>But none of that mattered now and he would have rather been a beat cop where he had a better chance of being shot on duty. Nobody could blame you if you got killed. No guilt for people like Jeff the way there would be when he finally got the balls to pull the trigger himself. He wouldn’t even need to see it coming and everything would just... stop.</p><p>Fuck he wished that life would just stop for two god damned minutes.</p><p>A talk with Jeff was looking worse and worse in the second and a half it took before he answered. Jeff closed up something on his terminal and gave him his full attention.</p><p>“Hank, I need to talk to you.”</p><p>Oh, fuck. “No shit,” Hank forced out a chuckle.</p><p>Jeff looked out toward the desks and then frosted the glass with the tap of a button so nobody could look in. Hank’s brow furrowed and he sat up a little straighter. What the hell could it be that was so sensitive? Their whole division got along by shouting things across the room, and in a place like that it was pretty rare that you needed a private room. “People will get ideas,” Hank warned with a slow, deadpan delivery, “Reed’s already telling everybody I suck your cock to keep my badge.”</p><p>“It’s about a case,” Jeff said, blunt and to the point. “We’ve had a lot of pressure from up top to keep it quiet, but it looks like we’ve got the green light to go ahead with a few conditions.”</p><p>“What, some politician screw up a hit or something?” They were all a bunch of sleazy crooks. Hands in every pocket and quietly giving allowances to their favourite ‘sons’ in the gangs. “Did Skybowich finally fuck up? That asshole was <em>this</em>close to getting locked up after that big bust...” Of course, Hank had gotten that promotion and Reed was working the Red Ice shit now... but still. It had been Hank’s playground first and he’d liked taking down the bullies.</p><p>“Focus, Hank. I’m getting to it.” Hank was pretty sure Jeff used that voice on his daughters. “You remember how Chris got shot back in August...”</p><p>“Yeah,” Hank narrowed his eyes. “Attended a hostage situation August 15<sup>th</sup>. He’s still on leave and due back in a couple weeks.”</p><p>“Well, take a look at this,” Jeff said and he pulled up a video on his terminal so they both could watch.</p><p>“What the hell am I looking at?” Hank frowned as he got a first-person look at a fish flopping around by some broken glass. There was a steady stream of micro-fucking-scopic text in the bottom left corner of the screen and a pair of hands reached out to scoop up the fish and put it back in its tank. The camera looked in through the glass and Hank got a blurry glimpse of face that was too distorted to make out.Had the gunman taken footage or something? No, the place was swarming with cops.</p><p>FIND CAPTAIN ALLEN</p><p>The camera moved further down the hallway and a woman in hysterics barrelled into the camera man.</p><p>“<em>Please! You’ve got to save my little girl!”</em></p><p>Hank felt for her, he really did. It must have been so god damned terrifying to have her kid being threatened. She’d never forget it and it would probably haunt her for the rest of her life.</p><p>“<em>Wait a minute... You’re sending an android?! You can’t do that!”</em></p><p>What the fuck? Hank looked at Jeff, but Jeff just motioned back toward the terminal.</p><p>“<em>Why won’t you send a real person?!”</em></p><p>It was a good question and Hank narrowed his eyes wondering if he was about to see a fuck-up by SWAT. Had somebody’s bad call gotten Chris shot?</p><p>The footage continued and Hank watched commands flash up in the field of view, things go greyscale with little evidence markers, and framework people reenacting the crime. Piece by piece, it was getting information and however it was calculated, a number labelled ‘probability of success’ kept going up.</p><p>“Holy shit,” Hank leaned forward in his seat as they got a good look at the gunman. Full uniform and LED. “Is that an android?” It couldn’t be. Not with an expression like that. Probably someone dressed up to get in the building... But there had been that receipt on the tablet.</p><p>A negotiation started but the camera kept panning over to the officer on the ground. “Is that Chris?”</p><p>Daniel was the android’s name apparently, according to the girl’s video they’d seen and the way it responded. It sent a chill down his spine looking at something inanimate acting like a human. Claiming it thought it had been loved. He wanted to believe this was some kind of joke, but every time he looked at Jeff the captain just looked grim.</p><p>“<em>If we don’t get him to a hospital, he’s going to die!”</em></p><p>“<em>All humans die eventually. What does it matter if this one dies now?”</em></p><p>One android crying that it had wanted a family while holding a gun to a little girl’s head, and another saving Chris’ life without a hint of feeling.</p><p>“<em>You can’t kill me. I’m not alive.”</em></p><p>It happened so fast. There was still a damn good chance of success according to the number on the screen, but the other android changed its stance and Hank saw the split second decision that made the camera-android run for the ledge.</p><p>The girl was pulled to safety, then the androidswere going over. Time froze and went grey again for a minute and the text on the bottom left of the screen slowed to something his eyes could keep up with:</p><p>Objective complete.</p><p>Mission successful.</p><p>Alpha test passed.</p><p>Amanda will be proud.</p><p>I’m falling.</p><p>The deviant android is going to be broken.</p><p>I am going to be broken.</p><p>This building is 70 levels high.</p><p>The sky is darker than I expected it would be.</p><p>Terminal velocity: 33.0026 meters per second</p><p>Probability of shut-down: 100%</p><p>Mission successful. I did it.</p><p>The wind is loud.</p><p>Gravitational constant: 6.674 m<sup>3</sup>*kg<sup>-1</sup>*s<sup>-2</sup></p><p>Avenues to mitigate damage to hardware: 0</p><p>Processor destruction inevitable.</p><p>52 will proceed to beta.</p><p> </p><p>Initiate upload...</p><p> </p><p>“Shit...” Hank murmured. The video went back to real time, but it didn’t take long before there was a huge, crunching bang and then nothing. Jeff sat back in his chair with his arms crossed.</p><p>“That was an android on the roof,” Jeff confirmed. “CyberLife wanted to keep it quiet. Right now, they don’t know if it was a malfunction or a hacker or something else entirely because its hard drive got smashed on impact.”</p><p>Hank contemplated, chewing over his thoughts like tough steak. “So why get us involved more than we were already? What did you call me in here for?”</p><p>“I called you in here because I’m giving you a new task force: android crimes. In case this isn’t an isolated incident, I need you to follow up on any reports of androids acting strangely or getting violent.”</p><p>“What?” Disbelief was too small a word. “You can’t be fucking serious.” Hank leaned back in his chair and stared at Jeff, but Jeff wasn’t laughing. He had his Captain face on and he folded his hands on his desk.</p><p>“I’m serious, Hank. You’re leading this one. I told the Chief that I’d put my best man on it, and I’m doing it.”</p><p>“Don’t try to butter me up. I’m washed up and we both know it.” Hell, the whole department knew it. It didn’t take a detective to notice the jokes and comments they made. “I don’t know shit about androids or cyber crimes, I can barely work my own phone, I lost my edge, and I’ve got no patience for political bullshit mucking up my investigations!”</p><p>“You aren’t washed up.You’re my best detective and I want you to start acting like it.You’ll have CyberLife consultants to tackle the technological aspects, and as for the rest: that’s exactly why I’m putting you on this investigation. You look at the facts, you ask the right questions, and you never backed down from going up against the big players, no matter what the risk when you were on Red Ice. That’s the kind of guy I want on this case.”</p><p>Hank scowled. At least Jeff was, in his own way, acknowledging that it might unveil something bigger. “Nobody’s going to believe there are androids out there taking hostages and killing people.”</p><p>“Believe me, I know,” Jeff sighed, “If it weren’t for Chris and this footage, I wouldn’t have believed it either... But it’s a legitimate public safety concern and we don’t know what caused it. If there’s some geek sweating over his keyboard orchestrating murders with androids, then I want the fucker caught.” Jeff did a little nod like that solved everything and put his business voice on. “You’ll be working with CyberLife to investigate and see if there are any other rogue androids out there. Find out what’s caused that thing to go nuts.”</p><p>“Since when do the police do special requests for corporations?” Hank narrowed his eyes and but a foot down on his growing interest. Jeff wanted him to ask questions, then he would ask questions.</p><p>“Since the Chief told me so this morning,” Jeff snapped. “If someone with a higher pay grade thinks it’s worth our effort, don’t you think it might be worth taking a look?”</p><p>Was Jeff serious? “What a load of crap!” Hank exclaimed. His hands curled into fists and he had to force them to relax.“You’re telling me there are androids going haywire, CyberLife wants a coverup, and now the DPD’s going to bend over backwards to do their legwork? I work homicide. They can talk to cyber crimes or counter-terrorism or anybody else.”</p><p>Jeff glared at him. “You are taking this task force, Hank. I’m not moving on this one. CyberLife’s going to be sending a prototype android here and it’s going to act as your partner.”</p><p>There it was: the icing on the cake. “Bullshit. No way. No fucking way.” Hank stood up and leaned forward. The end of his rope was a distant memory now. Who the fuck did Jeff think he was? “You know I can’t stand those fucking things!”</p><p>“Then you’ll just have to adapt!”</p><p>“The last thing I need is a plastic asshole watching over my shoulder and taking up space! Tell me that thing’s not going to be sending those corporate bastards a play by play of my investigation. I dare you! It stinks worse than shit!”</p><p>“So you agree you’re taking the investigation,” Jeff said, leaning back. Smug asshole. Hank grimaced and sat back down.</p><p>“Fuck you.”</p><p>“As I was saying,” said Jeff. “CyberLife is sending a prototype android to help you with the investigation. It’s the one from the footage,” he elaborated with a jab of his finger toward his terminal. “It’s state-of-the-art. Way more sophisticated than the old models we have here, and you wouldn’t believe the number of forms I had to sign.”</p><p>“Boo-hoo. I don’t care how fancy it is: if they send that thing here, I’m going to throw it with the rest of the trash before it’s out of the fucking box.” And that, he wouldn’t budge on. “If it’s my investigation then I’m doing it my way, and that means no Plastics.”</p><p>“The decision’s already been made, Hank,” Jeff frowned at him, preparing for another fight. He wasn’t going to get it this time. Hank wasn’t going to give him another chance to win.</p><p>“Whoop-dee-fricken-doo. I’ll look into it, maybe start by asking the mother if she’s got any enemies into hacking or something... The android’s going in the trash, so they can send it at their own fucking risk.” Hank stood up again. The whole conversation left a weird feeling on his skin, like muck that would be hard to get off. It was that feeling that warned him he might be getting close to an edge, and who knew how far the rabbit hole went? CyberLife was obviously cooking a deal with somebody... How high up? Would he need somebody from internal affairs or somebody outside the force to look into it? Hacking an android could mean anything from a moody teenager with a hobby to Russians trying to stir up some shit.</p><p>That footage and the way Jeff talked made it sound like CyberLife thought it could be a malfunction or something. He thought back to the footage and the look on the android’s face. Hell of a malfunction if that were the case... Still, if he took a step back then all of the evidence the camera-droid had dug up made sense. Too much sense for an impossible answer.</p><p>When he left the office, Hank took a long look at the assistant plastics they had standing around. One of them was leading a lady over to Pearson to give a statement. It had that synthetic friendly face on that they all did, but that was all there was there. It didn’t give a shit about anything any more than his toaster did.</p><p>Soulless fucking machines.</p><p>“Are you finished with the schedule yet, Anderson?” Reed shouted across the room.</p><p>“Does it look like I am?” Hank retorted snappishly.</p><p>“Fuck it. I’ll do it just like I do the rest of your fucking work... Need me to wipe your ass too?” What a loud-mouthed little shit.</p><p>“Screw you,” Hank muttered. This was going to be a day for coffee. So much fucking coffee.</p><p>---</p><p>Paperwork and procedures took for fucking ever in government until one of the guys up top decided they wanted something. Then all of a sudden people were jumping. Hank found himself in some kind of orientation to work the new android the next fucking day. It was just four of them: a lady whose name Hank had already forgotten, Jeff, and a preppy looking kid who couldn’t even have been 30. Intern at best. The way the lady kept nodding at him hinted that he was still in training. Hank didn’t need some young pup telling him what to do. Round up all the androids and light them on fire. Problem solved.</p><p>“Let’s just get a move on already...” Hank sighed.</p><p>“Right,” the lady said. Catherine. That’s what her name was. A skinny blonde thing with too-thin eyebrows. The intern was sitting next to her and gave her a kind smile then took over talking once she gave him the nod. “Since you’re already familiar with the details of the agreement, let’s move on to technical specifications. We’ll start with the user-interface.” At that, the intern pulled up a visual on his fancy tablet that looked like a flow chart. “As you are probably already aware, most androids are voice activated and need to be prompted before other sensory modalities can be engaged. For instance, a house-keeper android like an AK might not react to a stack of dirty dishes unless it had been specifically instructed to clean them or had been given a standing order to clean them whenever they were dirtied. During set-up, CyberLife speeds up the process by helping the user to choose from a variety of pre-set functions to activate or deactivate on the first start-up. That isn’t the case with the RK800: it isn’t voice-activated and it has no preset commands.”</p><p>“Okay, so how the fuck do you get it to do anything?” Hank asked despite himself. He wasn’t keeping the thing, but it would be a boring couple hours if he didn’t ask questions. Jeff frowned at his language. Fuck him. It was his fault this was happening.</p><p>“Perhaps I misspoke... The RK800 will respond to voice commands, but it doesn’t require input to be active.”</p><p>“Energizer bunny,” Hank muttered.</p><p>“That being said,” the intern continued undaunted and stirred his coffee spoon around in his cup. “The unit is equipped with the latest software and its decision making algorithms were modelled in a much more sophisticated way than most androids. While idle, its investigative programming will provide prompts to direct its behaviour so it requires minimal user intervention.”</p><p>“In English?” Jeff asked blandly. Looked like he was getting bored too.</p><p>“Um,” the guy looked at Catherine.</p><p>“The RK800 thinks for itself,” Catherine supplied. “It makes its own decisions and acts based on its programming. This unit is designed specifically for crisis negotiation and investigation, so it may search for information or try to converse. You shouldn’t be alarmed if it speaks unprompted.”</p><p>“Right. Does this thing have a mute button? I don’t want to hear it.”</p><p>The intern looked at Catherine again. She was definitely his supervisor or something. She smiled. “Go on, Connor.”</p><p>“Alright. The RK800 unit doesn’t have a mute button exactly,” Connor said thoughtfully. “It will respond to orders though, and if that fails then the voice generator can be manually disabled by a technical specialist.”</p><p>“Hmph.” It wasn’t like it mattered.</p><p>Connor pulled up some numbers and technobabble on the tablet. “This is a list of functions that it has been programmed to perform. It’s also available in the user guide and you can ask the RK800 any questions you may have.”</p><p>Jeff glanced at his phone and stood up. Lucky bastard. It probably wasn’t even a call. “Excuse me just a moment. I need to take this.”</p><p>“Not a problem, Captain,” said Catherine. She sipped her coffee and Hank reclined in his chair.</p><p>“I suppose we should wait until Captain Fowler returns,” Connor suggested. “In the mean time, do you have any questions for me, Lieutenant Anderson?”</p><p>“Nope.”</p><p>“Alright...”</p><p>There was an awkward silence. Catherine consulted her own tablet and Connor looked intently into his coffee before sticking the spoon in his mouth like a lollypop. Catherine gave him a look and he put it back sheepishly.</p><p>“So,” Connor tried. “If you don’t have any questions about technical specifications or user-interface, perhaps we could talk about the deviancy phenomenon?”</p><p>“Deviancy?” Hank frowned. What crazy new shit were kids getting up to nowadays?</p><p>“I’m sorry. Deviancy meaning a deviation from programming. The Daniel you saw in the footage was operating outside of usual parameters.”</p><p>“No shit,” Hank scoffed. Murder was pretty out-of-scope for androids. “Didn’t CyberLife program those things to avoid harming humans or something? Three laws of robotics or whatever.” Maybe that was just in movies.</p><p>“There are numerous safety mechanisms,” Connor assured. “That’s why Daniel’s behaviour was so interesting. Do you have any theories, Lieutenant?”</p><p>He had a theory that CyberLife was full of shit. “A few,” he said guardedly. “None I’m going to talk about with a sales team.”</p><p>Jeff entered the room, giving a nice excuse to end the conversation. Not that Hank needed one. Catherine looked up from her tablet and the talking started up again. They were saying things about daily and weekly maintenance, servers, memory storage, and all kinds of crap. It all went in one ear and came out the other.</p><p>CyberLife already had a term for what that android had done. For it to be a phenomenon, had there been more than one case? He kind of regretted not asking the question, but he didn’t think he’d trust the answer one way or the other. No, if CyberLife thought sending a piece of walking spyware into the precinct would fly then they were in for a big surprise.</p><p>Catherine pulled up some more images of a generic looking android: no skin or clothes, just white plastic. The virtual model came apart to show some of the insides. He really couldn’t care less. CyberLife could go to hell.</p><p>With two fingers, Catherine spun the model android and zoomed in. “In case someone needs to access the system manually, there are ports at the back of the neck. Here is where the unit can be connected to a charging cable directly if an inductive charger isn’t available. This is for connection to a computer, and it’s compatible with any operating system. We don’t recommend it because they often don’t have the memory or processing power to keep up with the reports. It’s always preferred that you contact CyberLife for assistance, since our techs will have some administrative access that’s locked to users and specialized hardware. Here, at the base of the head, is the manual reset. A key is provided in the start-up package that fits neatly into this slot...”</p><p>He wasn’t going to remember any of this. He wasn’t going to need to either. What a waste of his fucking time.</p><p>How reliable had the android’s footage been, anyway? Could CyberLife have doctored it? Hank shook his head. There were already enough conspiracy theories floating around. He didn’t need to complicate things. Fuck he needed a drink... He rubbed his fingers together and then checked the time. How long was this going to take? He had a stash at his desk. He could take a swig if the CyberFucks would just leave.</p><p>“Are you sure you don’t have any questions?” Oh. Connor was talking to him. The kid was leaning a little closer with a concerned frown on his face.</p><p>“Yeah, I’m sure,” Hank answered sourly. “No. Actually there are a couple.” Connor straightened up attentively. “First: was that Daniel the first and only time ‘deviancy’ has been noted? Second: How do we know this fancy new android isn’t going to ‘deviate’?”</p><p>Connor frowned and Hank was a little surprised that he was the one who answered. “The phenomenon was observed before... Strictly in a research environment. The unit was terminated immediately. The RK800 has enhanced safety features to prevent deviancy. You have nothing to worry about.”</p><p>“We’ll see about that,” Hank said and then he said no more. Vague. He’d have to learn more about the other deviant android.</p><p>“Right!” Catherine chirped in the silence that followed. It went right through Hank’s pounding skull. “If you’re ready, we can move on to set-up and register you in its system.”</p><p>“It’s already done,” Connor interrupted in a soft voice. He stood up and folded his hands behind his back. “Jeffrey Fowler: Captain of the Detroit Police Department, Precinct 1, Post 9667. Previously Master Sergeant in the U.S. Air Force and Sergeant First Class in the Army. Hank Anderson: Lieutenant. Graduated top of his class as Valedictorian of his police academy. Youngest Lieutenant in Detroit’s history.”</p><p>Catherine nodded her approval. “RK800, register Lieutenant Hank Anderson as immediate supervisor.”</p><p>“Got it,” said Connor. He looked at Hank and smiled, then extended a hand. “I look forward to working with you, Lieutenant.”</p><p>Hank shook his hand before he realized what he was doing. “What the shit...” He looked at Jeffrey who gave him a look and a shrug.</p><p>Connor stood still while Catherine did something with the side of his head and when her hand pulled away it was lit up with the bright blue from an LED. Hank watched dumbly while she got a jacket from the box by the projector screen and Connor shrugged it on. It had a reflective arm band and a model and serial number splashed right across his chest. If Hank didn’t know any better, he would have said he saw a hint of a smirk. Connor tugged his sleeves to straighten them and then tightened his tie.</p><p>“Nope. Fuck this,” Hank said simply, then he stood up and walked out.</p><p>“Lieutenant, wait!” The android was trotting after him, so Hank stopped in the middle of the hallway and pushed him back with a heavy palm on his chest.</p><p>“What the fuck is this?” Hank growled. “Is this some kind of fucking joke?”</p><p>Connor looked dismayed. It shouldn’t be able to do that. The officers nearby were starting to stare.“No, it isn’t. I took part in my introduction because it might help you to see that I function differently from other androids. If I hadn’t, there was a risk that you wouldn’t make use of my full potential. There was no ill will intended in the deceit.”</p><p>Hank wound up and punched. Connor’s head snapped to the side and he took a step to keep his balance, but he didn’t fight back. He lifted one hand to wipe the blue shit off his lip. Hank shook out his stinging hand. “You bleed blue alright. Well I’ll be damned.”</p><p>Connor pulled a handkerchief out of his pocket. Who the fuck carried handkerchiefs? Should have been a dead giveaway. Now that Hank was looking properly, he could kind of see it... The way he’d listened to Catherine, the way he never fumbled his words when he spoke, and he never did drink the coffee did he? Fucking shit. “I’m sorry if I offended you in any way, L--... Where are you going?” He dogged Hank’s heels like an annoying chihuahua.</p><p>“To get drunk,” Hank said. Back toward the conference room, Hank could hear Catherine and Jeff talking. Probably more techno bullshit. If Jeff wanted to reprimand him later, then fine: it was worth it if he could go get a drink. “Fucking androids.”</p><p>“You shouldn’t do that,” Connor said. It just added fuel to the fire. Hank spun back around and grabbed the kid- the android- by the collar.</p><p>“What did you say to me?”</p><p>Connor looked back and Hank could tell he was searching his face with his eyes. Its eyes. “I said that you shouldn’t drink,” it answered. It sounded confident but there was some doubt in its expression. Hank looked at the blue blood on its lip and then met its gaze with a glare and a shake for good measure. His anger was swirling inside him like a tornado. “A fucking android...”</p><p>“Hank!” Jeff appeared out of the conference room. “Put it down.”</p><p>Hank snarled and took a moment longer before he shoved the android back. It took a few more steps away and then straightened its clothes again. It looked back and forth between Hank and Jeff until Catherine came out, then it migrated back to her side. He should have known. He should have seen.</p><p>Catherine nodded at it but she moved away all the same, just slightly. “You’re in beta testing, Connor. You will report regularly on your progress, and you will notify R&amp;D immediately should any serious errors occur. Your mission is to determine the cause of deviancy in androids. You will also make yourself useful to the other police officers when you are able.”</p><p>“Understood,” Connor said. It was smiling, sort of. Not quite, though. “I won’t let CyberLife down.”</p><p>“Please report any glitches or bugs to us,” Catherine said to Jeff with a nod to a business card in his hand. “It’s still a prototype so it will need supervision in the field.”</p><p>“Hank’s on it,” Jeff said. Hank scowled at him. “Despite our rocky start, I’m confident that the investigation will go smoothly. I’ll be in touch.”</p><p>“Great,” Catherine smiled. “It was a pleasure to meet you both. I’m sure we’ll talk again. I have a car waiting so I really should go.”</p><p>“Goodbye,” Connor called as she turned to leave. She didn’t answer and Hank knew he was imagining that it looked disappointed. He’d been tricked into thinking it was human so his brain was making shit up. That was all.</p><p>How was he going to get this thing in the dumpster?</p><p>“I’ll leave you to it,” Jeff said with an appraising look at both him and the android. “I know you can handle it.”</p><p>“Fuck you,” Hank said again.</p><p>He would if it meant he wouldn’t have to work with CyberLife or their stupid android.</p><p>Okay. Not really.</p><p>“Come on, RK800 or whatever. You’re coming with me outside.”</p><p>The lost look left its face and it smiled at him. “Coming, Lieutenant! I really am looking forward to working with you.”</p><p>Hah. Good one.</p><p>Hank led the thing past the others at their desks and around to the back door that led out into the parking lot. Garbage day wasn’t until Tuesday, but Hank had never been as eager as he was now to clean up the trash.</p><p>Fucking androids.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Settling in</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Connor was alone now. Not alone, but... not at CyberLife or with any of its employees. He could remember the security guards who had escorted him out of the CyberLife transport vehicle on his first mission. They’d obscured most of his view of the exterior of the building and, once he had been reminded of the importance of his mission and left inside of the elevator, it had been so much like a simulation that it hadn’t seemed real. A closed environment with the R&amp;D and security teams closely observing his every action...</p><p>But the police station opened up into a whole world once Connor was led outside the door.</p><p>His new operator... no- <em>owner </em>walked off toward an apparent storage unit but as the steel door shut behind him, Connor found himself standing still. When he looked up, he could see light coming from the grey ceiling that was really the sky and the air was cold as it, unprompted by any fans or helicopter blades, gusted through his jacket and disturbed his tie. Connor straightened it and then investigated the environment.</p><p>The icy water that had pooled on the floor was full of soil, decayed organic matter, and trace amounts of chemicals.</p><p>The vehicles lined up in rows weren’t all self-driving, and Connor touched one that was red and sprayed with dried mud. The colour reminded him of Amanda’s roses, though she would never have allowed anything in the garden to become so soiled.</p><p>“This is a Trailblazer model released in 2032,” Connor announced he result of his scan to Lieutenant Anderson. “It is registered to Mr. Ashton Walters. He has received three parking violations and was in one minor accident. His insurance payed $384 after the deductible. No-one was injured.”</p><p>The rattling that accompanied his owner fighting with a lock and chain on the storage unit ceased and Connor was observed. Lieutenant Anderson’s expression registered as annoyed and confused. “What?”</p><p>“This car,” Connor explained with a small gesture. Should he have analyzed the others before making a report? Should he have focused on the self-driving models? He could examine the tires or search for traces of blood.</p><p>“Why the fuck would I care about Walters’ car?”</p><p>“Because that was the result of my analysis. I can find more information if you aren’t satisfied,” Connor offered hopefully then frowned and studied the Lieutenant. “You are a police officer and your role entails supervision of your subordinate officers. You would care to know in case there were a pattern of disrespect for the law in Mr. Walters.”</p><p>“What the... Who asked you to dig up dirt on Walters?” Confusion was the Lieutenant’s predominant expression now.</p><p>“No-one, Lieutenant,” Connor answered. “It was just an observation.”</p><p>“Stupid fucking androids. Glitchy as fuck...” Lieutenant Anderson turned away and returned to his efforts.</p><p>“Would you like any assistance?” Connor offered. “You seem to be struggling with that lock.”</p><p>“Fuck you,” said Lieutenant Anderson.</p><p>Connor spent a moment thinking over the words and their meaning. “I’m obliged to follow all of your orders to the best of my ability, Lieutenant, but my purpose here is to assist with the investigation into deviants.”</p><p>“Agh!” This earned Connor a look of revulsion. Why? “Fucking disgusting... Haven’t you ever heard of an insult before?”</p><p>Connor nodded. “I have.”</p><p>The Lieutenant sneered and turned away again. “Never mind... Why am I even talking to this thing?”</p><p>The social interaction wasn’t going well. Connor turned away too and resumed his exploration. The wire fence surrounding the vehicles was cold to touch. The security cameras on the walls of the building and on the light posts were functional and sent their information to a DPD server...</p><p>“Oh.” Connor fixed his gaze on a small creature. It was a bird. Connor performed a scan. “Look, Lieutenant! That is a <em>Poecile atricapillus</em>also known as a black-capped chickadee. It’s the state bird of Massachusetts and one of the few song-birds with an unthreatened conservation status.”</p><p>There was the sound of the lock finally succumbing to the Lieutenant’s efforts. “What are you going on about?” Despite the verbal expression of confusion, the Lieutenant looked right up at the bird Connor was pointing to so he lowered his hand.</p><p>“It’s nice,” Connor said. “I’ve never seen a bird before. Have you seen many birds, Lieutenant?”</p><p>There was a long silence and the Lieutenant didn’t answer Connor’s question. Eventually he shook his head and looked away. “Yeah. They’re everywhere. The pigeons and the crows anyway.”</p><p>“I hope I’ll get to see them,” Connor admitted. The thought gave him just a hint of pleasure. “The mission is my first priority, of course,” he assured.</p><p>“You’re an android,” said the Lieutenant.</p><p>Connor stood a little straighter and adjusted his tie again. “I’m an RK800 model, serial number 313-248-317 version number 52. My name is Connor.”</p><p>“There are fifty-fucking two of you running around?”</p><p>“No. All previous models of me have been destroyed or their parts repurposed for use in repairs. I’m the latest model and there is only one of me.”</p><p>“Thank fuck for that...” Lieutenant Anderson muttered. “Do all androids do that? Hope for shit...”</p><p>“I wouldn’t know, Lieutenant,” Connor said. “Hope is the result of acknowledging the possibility that something could be different than it is... Do you hope for anything?”</p><p>“I’m a human. We’re talking about androids.”</p><p>“I suppose they might,” Connor speculated aloud. “But without the ability to feel anything about the outcome, it doesn’t really matter.”</p><p>“That android on the roof. I saw the footage,” Lieutenant Anderson said and crossed his arms. “Sounded like it hoped it would havestayedwith that family and it claimed to feel pretty strongly about the outcome.”</p><p>“Yes,” Connor agreed. He relaxed. They were talking about the investigation now and working together. Thatwas his purpose in being there. “By believing that its emotional response was real or warranted, that android became able to... act out. It deviated from its programming and took actions that went against everything it was made to do.”</p><p>“Androids don’t feel anything,” said the Lieutenant.</p><p>“Exactly,” Connor agreed with a smile. “I asked Captain Allen about any recent emotional shock because delusion like that seems to be related to deviancy. Whether it’s a cause or an effect of deviancy remains to be seen.”</p><p>Lieutenant Anderson shook his head. “Androids can’t get shocked. They get orders and actions come out. I don’t know much, but I’m pretty damn sure that’s how machines work.”</p><p>“You’re right,” Connor agreed again. “That’s the problem with deviants, Lieutenant. They’re uncontrollable, even by their own code. They become irrational and violent. If there are more of them out there, then they could pose a great danger.”</p><p>“You’re talking like it’s the androids acting on their own,” Lieutenant Anderson said slowly. “Could be that it’s a hacker or something hijacking the system.”</p><p>Connor nodded. “It’s possible. From what I gather, deviants become overwhelmed by irrational instructions. We don’t know where those originate.”</p><p>Lieutenant Anderson scoffed, his face filled with unmistakable derision. “Think I know the perfect solution.”</p><p>Really? Connor tilted his head. “What is it?”</p><p>“Turn the lot of you into scrap metal,” he said with a scowl and analytical eyes. “What do you think about that?”</p><p>“I think that any machine that becomes a danger or no longer fulfils its function should be destroyed.” He smiled. That was an easy question to answer. “But getting rid of all androids would be overkill. The ones that function are meant to aid humans, after all.”</p><p>“Yeah? And what if I decided to get rid of you?”</p><p>The concept was alarming, but Connor knew what he was and what he was not. “It would probably be for the best,” Connor frowned. Was this hypothetical or had he failed to redeem himself from his initial bad impression? “If I’m failing, then I should be replaced.”</p><p>“Yeah,” Lieutenant Anderson agreed then he shook his head. “Fucking CyberLife and their god damned psychopathic manipulation...” He was suddenly very angry, and Connor took a step back. “You know what the problem is with you androids? You’ve got no fucking souls.”With a few paces, Lieutenant Anderson was directly in front of him and pushing an accusing finger into Connor’s chest. The Lieutenant was taller than him, and Connor had to look up slightly to see the outrage in his pale eyes. “It’s all fucking talk. Just an illusion! Then all of a sudden people are buying androids instead of bothering to live their lives or put in the god damned effort it takes to relate to an actual human. Androids are taking care of the family, or building the roads, or practicing fucking medicine and <em>they don’t fucking care. </em>And you. All your talk about the danger to humans... You might be made to be a detective, but you don’t really give a shit because you can’t! You’re a fucking machine.”</p><p>Dialogue options hovered in Connor’s line of sight, just behind the Lieutenant’s left ear. “I don’t understand... I know that I am a machine. I know that nothing I feel is real. I don’t know why it makes you so angry.”</p><p>“You wouldn’t, would you?” Lieutenant Anderson growled. Connor waited for an explanation, but none came. With a quick turn, his owner strode over to the storage bin and pushed open the lid. “Get in there where you belong. With the rest of the trash.”</p><p>Connor took a few steps closer and then hesitated as he peered over the edge. “I am very expensive, Lieutenant Anderson, and I’m fully functional. Are you testing me?”</p><p>Lieutenant Anderson snarled and then slammed the lid back shut. “Just keep away from me and stay out of my sight.”</p><p>Connor watched him go back toward the door. “Out here?”</p><p>The only reply was the beep of the Lieutenant’s pass-key being accepted and the heavy sound of the door slamming shut behind him.</p><p>---</p><p>“I don’t fucking get it, Jeff,” Hank ranted. He knew he was ranting, and Jeff could damn well deal with it. “What’s CyberLife doing sending that piece of crap here? Talking about hope and birds and fucking hypotheticals... Then that android on the roof: how the hell does an android do any of that? They’re just walking calculators!”</p><p>“It’s a tool, Hank. A tool you’re going to use to do your damn job. Where is the android, anyway?”</p><p>“I don’t need an android around to do my job!”</p><p>“We’ve been over this! You took the investigation and you knew CyberLife was sending one over to assist.”</p><p>“Yeah, and I told you what would happen if they did, didn’t I?”</p><p>“You threw it out?” Jeff’s eyebrows went up in surprise. Was it so unfuckingbelievable?</p><p>“Well... No.” God damn it.</p><p>“Good. I don’t want to have to explain to the commissioner why a billion dollar supercomputer ended up in the trash with Ben’s empty fast food wrappers. Seriously, Hank!” Jeff wagged a finger. “You aren’t getting rid of it or it’s my ass that’s on the line.”</p><p>Hank scowled and leaned forward, his hands braced on the edge of Jeff’s desk so that he could look him in the eye. “It’s a CyberLife spy. You think they won’t stick their noses in to cover their asses?”</p><p>“I know they will. They’ll be working closely with us on this one…” Jeff trailed off looking just as pissed off as Hank felt.</p><p>“If it turns out that hostage situation was their fucking fault, I don’t give a damn what the Commissioner has to say and you can shove your politics up your ass. I’m making sure everybody knows it and I hope to God that it brings that piece of shit company down.”</p><p>Jeff shut his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose with a sigh. “It’s tempting to think they’re using us for damage control, but would they really invite the DPD to investigate and request my best manif they were the ones in the wrong? It wasn’t them suppressing the news reports that surprised me- it was the fact they released the information to the police in the first place.”</p><p>Hank sighed and turned to sit down in his usual chair with a soft thud. “I don’t like it.”</p><p>“I know you don’t, Hank, and I know you know better than to let your personal biases influence an investigation. Keep being cautious, by all means, but don’t dismiss the possibility that they’re trying to keep people safe no matter what the cause of the malfunction.”</p><p>Hank hated it when Jeff talked sense. He hated it even more when the sense he was talking went against Hank’s gut feeling that something shady was going on with CyberLife right in the middle.</p><p>“You look a little freaked out,” Jeff commented quietly.</p><p>“I just don’t know, Jeff. This job is all I’ve got, but I’m too tired for this bullshit. I just want those androids, all of them, as fucking far away from me as can be and I just stood there and had a damn conversation with one. It’s not even alive.”</p><p>Jeff looked thoughtful. With his anger gone, Hank was too deflated to object to being studied like that. Jeff liked psychology too much. “You’re out of your comfort zone,” Jeff said at last. “You’re interested in the investigation, but it’s making you uncomfortable interacting with an android.”</p><p>“I don’t want CyberLife manipulating me,” Hank corrected. “They can try to pass those things off as human all they want, but at the end of the day they’re just plastic.”</p><p>“Was it the thing with the information session?” Jeff asked.</p><p>“It’s CyberLife and their games,” Hank snarled, a little spark coming back to him. “People don’t know what it’s like anymore to really care about someone because all they see is machines, and the machines can’t care either. What the hell is wrong with the world, Jeff?”</p><p>“You work in homicide,” Jeff reminded him. “Not everybody’s a serial killer, and I know that you know people still have hearts... You know, you should get out more. Socialize. It might help if you spent some time with friends instead of going home to drink yourself under the table.”</p><p>Hank shook his head. “I don’t have the energy for that crap.” He scoffed at himself. “Let’s be real: you’re the only friend who really bothers anymore. If you knew what was good for you, you’d fuck off too. My company’s not good for people.”</p><p>“I think you’re wrong,” said Jeff patiently. “But I understand that you don’t see it that way. Give it some thought. In the mean time, are you worried CyberLife is going to trick you somehow? I don’t get it.”</p><p>Hank made a face. He didn’t quite get it himself either. “It just pisses me off, seeing those empty shells pretend like they’re human. It’s fucking insulting.”</p><p>“Well, I don’t see there being any danger of you succumbing then.”</p><p>“I’m not going to,” Hank snapped. “But you’re asking me to consider that maybe these androids are, what... I don’t know... That android on the roof: it really looked human.”</p><p>Jeff gave him a long look. “You’ll get to the bottom of it. I understand that it’s a little freaky, seeing something acting like it’s alive.”</p><p>Hank snorted. “Or fucking possessed. It’s like a damn horror movie with those talking dolls.”</p><p>Jeff gave him half a smile. “You don’t like working with androids: fine. I really don’t care if you just leave it at the charging station with the rest, just so long as you’re on this investigation.”</p><p>Hank nodded and felt a little tension leave him. “Fine. Just as long as we’re clear on that.”</p><p>“Good,” Jeff’s smile widened a little so that he actually looked happy. “Now get the fuck out of my office. Come back any time if you need to talk.”</p><p>“Yeah, yeah,” said Hank, standing. “Screw you.”</p><p>He’d just do his job and forget about the thing. That was fine with him.</p><p>---</p><p>GO INSIDE</p><p>WAIT OUTSIDE</p><p>He couldn’t further the investigation if he were outside, standing in a parking lot. Connor thought the matter over, then decided that his priorities indicated the first option as the best course. He straightened his jacket again and walked to the door, then tried to open it. It was locked, which made sense.</p><p>HACK</p><p>GIVE UP</p><p>Connor broke through the security on the electronic lock without hesitation and let himself in, making sure to lock it again behind him. The air was warm after the time he’d spent outside and he flexed his fingers to encourage them to heat up, wiped his shoes on the mat, and then retraced their steps back to the area where the officers seemed to work.</p><p>“Excuse me,” Connor said, taking a few steps toward one of the desks. “Do you know where Lieutenant Anderson is? He came in here a few moments ago.”</p><p>“Huh?” The man he’d addressed looked up and Connor glanced at his name plate. “You talking to me, Plastic?”</p><p>“My name is Connor,” Connor corrected. “Apologies: I should have introduced myself. I’m the android sent by CyberLife to assist in Lieutenant Anderson’s investigation. Can you tell me where he is?”</p><p>Detective Reed laughed incredulously and leaned back in his chair to look around the room. “Guys, get a load of this. Anderson’s got himself a little plastic pet.” He stood up. “So? Never seen an android like you before. What model are you?”</p><p>“RK800,” Connor answered. “I’m a prototype.”</p><p>“Oho! A prototype,” the detective laughed in a jocular way. “This is going to be good. Let’s see if it does anything funny. RK800,does Tina look fat in her uniform?”</p><p>Connor frowned and scanned the room, eventually isolating Officer Tina Chen by facial recognition. “Officer Chen weighs approximately 131lbs: a healthy weight for her age, height, and profession.”</p><p>“Take that, dick!” Officer Chen made a rude gesture at Detective Reed, but he didn’t seem phased.</p><p>“Okay, okay,” he chuckled with his arms crossed. “RK800, when is the world going to end?”</p><p>Connor blinked a few times and considered. “Could you define ‘end’ for me, please?”</p><p>“I dunno, dipshit, whatever wipes out life on Earth first.”</p><p>Connor paused for a moment longer this time and frowned. “While I’m technically capable of ‘predicting’ Mass Extinction Events, I don’t have access to enough data to answer your question...”</p><p>“Pft. Way to be boring,” said the detective.</p><p>“I’ve got one,” Officer Chen said. “RK800, what’s the meaning of life?”</p><p>Connor turned his head to look at her while he answered. The question called up a memory file from deep in his storage, but the file was empty. Connor logged the small glitch, but couldn’t dismiss the feeling of something important being just out of his reach. He blinked and shook his head. “Life is defined as that trait which distinguishes living from dead and allows an organism to actively resist degradation... I think that whatever it is, it’s what makes you different from me, Officer Chen, so you would probably know more than I do on the matter.”</p><p>“Agh, jeez...” Connor turned his head to see Lieutenant Anderson stalking toward him and he straightened his posture. “What the fuck are you doing in here? Didn’t I tell you to keep out of my sight?”</p><p>“Apologies, Lieutenant. I thought it would be difficult to act as your partner if I didn’t stay in some proximity to you.”</p><p>“So, this thing you’re assistant or what?” Detective Reed asked, pushing his chair back closer to his desk. “I guess, uh, Fowler finally realized you’re not up for the job, huh?”</p><p>“Don’t start shit, Reed, I’m not in the mood,” Lieutenant Anderson scowled at him. “Some CyberLife pricks decided to send a little spy to keep an eye on me while I look into some android stuff. It’s probably all a load of bullshit.”</p><p>Detective Reed scoffed. “Well they sure as shit ain’t gonna see anything useful. At least they’re finally replacing these old pieces of junk,” he gestured at one of the police assistant androids and Connor smiled a little.</p><p>“I’m state-of-the-art,” he said, proudly.</p><p>“Hah. State of the art huh? Go make me a coffee, RK800.”</p><p>Connor frowned, unable to interpret the tone of that statement, then glanced at the detective’s mug. He picked it up off of the desk carefully by the handle. “Right away, Detective Reed.”</p><p>“Me too!” Officer Chen called and Connor glanced at the Lieutenant but the order wasn’t overridden so he collected her mug as well and smiled at her while he did it. The other humans didn’t seem to be as violently opposed to his presence as Lieutenant Anderson. It would be beneficial to build comfortable working relationships with them, and hopefully he would improve the status of his relationship with the Lieutenant as well. Coffee looked like a good start.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Confusion</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>In the beginning of Detroit, you can see an android laughing and hugging a child. I don't think that expressions/simulations of emotion would be that unusual in some models of android. What do you think?</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“What the fuck is that?” Hank asked, frowning across his desk at the android who’d made itself at home at the desk opposite his. Connor looked up from his examination of the mug in front of him.</p><p>“Coffee, Lieutenant.”</p><p>“Yeah, no shit, why do you have a coffee?” The ones Connor’d distributed around the room made sense, even the one Hank had grudgingly accepted, but androids didn’t drink coffee.</p><p>Connor looked at him with those weird, wide eyes of his and explained with logic only an android could come up with. “I noticed that humans seem to view coffee as an element of their social interactions as well as a beverage. While I can’t drink as such, I can join in if I have a mug with me. I’d really like to fit in here.”</p><p>“Fit in?” Hank was incredulous. “You’re more likely to fit in with those pieces of plastic over there,” he jerked his thumb in the direction of the docked androids, “than sitting out here with a cup of coffee you can’t even drink.”</p><p>It looked disappointed. “Maybe so, but I’d like to do my best.” Then it looked up again with a sharp look that wandered over Hank like it was trying to figure out what he was made out of. “Do you have a dog, Lieutenant? I like dogs.”</p><p>Jesus Christ... Hank gave a rumbling sigh and looked back at his terminal. Fucking android distracting him. Wasn’t it supposed to be <em>helping</em>with his work instead of actively hindering it? “Fuck off.”</p><p>There was silence across from him and Hank made it through reading half a long-winded email before he glanced up again and saw it looking morosely at its useless coffee. Hank rolled his eyes. “Dog’s name is Sumo,” he growled, hoping he wouldn’t regret it. How was he supposed to work with an android that sulked?</p><p>Connor perked up again. “Sumo,” it repeated and its light spun yellow a few times, whatever that meant. “I would like it very much if I could see a picture of him or her. Do you have any with you?”</p><p>Hank took a mental step back. This wasn’t some newbie fresh out of the academy, and it wasn’t some awkward intern trying to impress its boss. What was CyberLife trying to pull? What did they get out of him showing the android his dog? “Nope,” Hank said simply. If they thought he’d be fucking motivated by an android saying it would like something, they had another thing coming. He scrolled and finally got to the top of his inbox. With a groan he opened the attachment from the bastards themselves.</p><p>“What the fuck is this?” Hank scowled at it.</p><p>Connor got up and walked over to look. “Oh. It’s a fillable form that you’re expected to send in to CyberLife as a way for them to gauge customer satisfaction. To help you along, they’ve asked some specific questions and provided some space for your own comments.” It paused. “... I’m a prototype so they’d like to get all of the kinks worked out before they make a final version of me.”</p><p>“What kinds of kinks are we talking?” Hank narrowed his eyes.</p><p>“I don’t know, Lieutenant. Humans tend to have criteria that they’re expecting to be met. I’ve never been privy to all of them.” It reached across the desk and scrolled down without asking and continued to read. When it finished, it stood straight again and looked down at him. “Your feedback will be valuable to my development team.”</p><p>“I’m sure it will,” Hank grumbled.</p><p>He’d probably just write ‘fuck you’ and hit send.</p><p>---</p><p>The Lieutenant was surly again and Connor retreated back to his desk, thoughtful. He had copied the Lieutenant’s credentials to access the case files and there were almost two hundred that had been flagged for attention. Most of them had been simple missing property reports, while others had been cases of theft or vandalism. His hand twitched on the interface and he ran through the list again before transferring them all to his onboard storage. Back-ups of confidential information to CyberLife servers were unfortunately forbidden, with the exception of Connor’s narrative memory. It might pose a hinderance to the investigation, but there was protection both ways. Connor was acutely aware of the nature of his own technology and of the possibility of foreign intelligence services taking an interest. The user manual that had been gifted to Lieutenant Anderson contained only the bare bones: what was necessary to operate him and no more. It had been an interesting experience educating him and Captain Fowler. In a way, it had reminded him of talking with Amanda. Connor smiled to himself and he traced the new LED on his temple with one finger. It had locked in place securely and was fully integrated with his system.</p><p>Proof that he was of sufficient quality to be in the world.</p><p>A series of notifications of pending tasks obscured Connor’s vision of the DPD files for a moment, and he dedicated a small partition of space toward resolving the issues so that he could continue his work. As he’d been taught, he searched for all available public information on the humans involved in the cases and what private information he could find as well. He tucked that information away with the rest of the files and checked that he hadn’t missed anything that might be relevant.</p><p>“Anderson.” Captain Fowler’s voice drew Connor’s attention and he withdrew back to his own mind. With his visual input now more prominent in his awareness, he could see that the Captain had come to stand beside them with arms crossed over his round chest.</p><p>“Hello, Captain Fowler,” Connor greeted with a polite expression.</p><p>“Whaddaya want?” Lieutenant Anderson was less formal. It was likely a sign of familiarity.</p><p>“I’ve got something for you to check out. It doesn’t look like much to me, but it’s someplace to start.” Captain Fowler addressed the Lieutenant and Connor listened. “Officers Smithson and Pathak responded to a disturbance in Greek Town not far from here. Some anti-android protestors have been making a fuss.”</p><p>“Great,” said the Lieutenant. “So what’s the problem?”</p><p>Captain Fowler sighed and rolled his eyes. “You’re on android crimes, Hank. Get your ass to the scene.”</p><p>“I repeat: what’s the problem? Sounds like Ray and Pranesh got it covered. You don’t need me there.” The Lieutenant was surprisingly reluctant.</p><p>“We should go,” Connor suggested. Both humans turned to look at him in surprise. “Those people must have reasons for protesting against androids. Perhaps they’ve encountered deviants in the past...”</p><p>Lieutenant Anderson scoffed. “Androids don’t have to be deviant to piss people off.”</p><p>“Apparently they’re saying it was an android that started it,” Captain Fowler explained. “There was some sort of brawl and things got out of hand. Talk to some people. It’ll do you good to get some legwork in.”</p><p>“Calling me fat, Jeff?”</p><p>“You bet your ass I am. Go on.”</p><p>Lieutenant Anderson sighed and stood, then locked his workstation down and cracked his back. Connor exited the system as well and restored the security before standing as well. “Androids are forbidden from causing harm to humans or failing to mitigate it. If there really was a brawl, I believe the chance of deviant involvement is high.”</p><p>“No you don’t,” Lieutenant Anderson forestalled him with a raised hand. “You stay put. I’m doing this alone.”</p><p>Connor frowned. “But Lieutenant, I’m supposed to accompany you. We’re partners.”</p><p>“I don’t work with Plastic,” said the Lieutenant.</p><p>INSIST</p><p>REASON</p><p>IRONIC</p><p>UNDERSTANDING</p><p>“I know that we got off on the wrong foot,” Connor began, but he was cut off.</p><p>“Stay there,” the Lieutenant repeated. It was a direct order, but it completely contradicted his instructions from CyberLife.</p><p>STAY THERE</p><p>Assessing priority...</p><p>FOLLOW LIEUTENANT ANDERSON</p><p>Connor trotted after the Lieutenant.</p><p>---</p><p>“Ugh,” Hank groaned when he noticed the android tailing him. “Don’t you know how to do as you’re told?”</p><p>“Sorry, Lieutenant,” it said. Now that he was talking to it, apparently it thought it was okay to move up beside him instead of following at his heels. “I have instructions from CyberLife that say I must accompany you. They were given a higher priority, but I hope you won’t take it personally. I’d really like to mend our relationship.” How was it that it could be programmed to sound so fucking earnest when it was basically confessing that it was a spy?</p><p>So much for ignoring it and just getting on with his job. Jeff knew a good mystery was the way to get him off his ass and, come the holiday season, Hank would take whatever distraction he could get. He just wished it didn’t have to be so annoying. He decided to ignore it and kept walking.</p><p>He unlocked his car and opened the door, and he wasn’t surprised when he saw Connor get in the passenger seat and buckle its seat belt. It sat there, stiff-backed and uncomfortable looking as hell. Hank shook his head and started to drive. As soon as he switched on the ignition, his music kicked in and Hank saw the android startle. Good. Stupid piece of shit.</p><p>Finding a place to park was hell like always, but he managed well enough. What was it about cold weather that made everybody forget how to drive all of a sudden, anyway? It wasn’t snowy yet, but the roads were wet and slick with water that was half frozen. When he got out of the car, his shoes crunched through a thin layer of ice. “Right... Let’s get this over with,” he muttered.</p><p>“Was that music, Lieutenant?”</p><p>Hank scowled but he glanced over. “Yeah. What of it?”</p><p>“I’ve never heard music before. It was... full of energy.”</p><p>He sighed and didn’t bother to respond. They walked down past a row of stores, probably all staffed with androids like empty shells of what they should have been. Might as well be rows of vending machines. Hank flipped a coin over to a poor son of a bitch slumped against a wall on a flattened out cardboard box with a sign on his lap. He wondered what the guy used to do, but he didn’t ask. Too many sad stories out there. Connor followed him, rubber-necking like a tourist.</p><p>“Well, well. Is everybody gearing up for a parade?” Hank asked. He stuffed his hands in his pockets and looked around the scene in the square. Ray and Pranesh were hanging out by the fountain with a handful of thuggish looking kids and a few androids standing there like posts. One of them had a pretty nasty burn on the face. There’d be no buffing that out. Off a ways away was the main protest: a small crowd ofmaybe 100 or so malcontents with their signs and their megaphones. There were a few smoking barrels distributed around, probably for warmth. Looked like they’d been asked to put them out.</p><p>“Hey, Lieutenant,” said Ray. He smirked a little and shrugged. “Sorry you got dragged all the way out here... What’s that?”</p><p>Hank glanced over his shoulder at Connor. “New model of cop bot. They sent one out to the DPD and I got stuck testing it out.”</p><p>“Lucky you,” Ray said sarcastically.</p><p>“Fuckin’ piece of shit,” one of the kids contributed. He spat at Connor who didn’t do anything. Of course he didn’t, though. It wasn’t like an android could give a shit.</p><p>---</p><p>Connor observed the human who’d expectorated on him with a small amount of confusion. No-one had ever done that to him that he was aware of, and the significance seemed to be negative. He was on an investigation though—his first investigation in beta—and any further analysis was set aside for another time.</p><p>“I’ll talk to the androids, Lieutenant. Perhaps you could take the humans’ statements? They might be more amenable to talking to you.”</p><p>Officer Smithson’s eyes went wide, but Connor’s question was solely for his owner-operator who expressed far less interest. “Go ahead, whatever. See what good it does you.”</p><p>“Thank you,” said Connor, already turning toward the small group of androids. They weren’t far, and Connor scanned and logged their information to include in his own report.</p><p>WR600 #021 753 034; Released 2031; City of Detroit, Parks and Services</p><p>TR400 #011 620 908l; Released 2030; City of Detroit, Transportation</p><p>RK200...</p><p>RK…?</p><p>He had to focus on the investigation.</p><p>There was another RK model? They looked nothing alike and the -200 appended to the line suggested that this was an older generation of android. It could be relevant, couldn’t it? Connor initiated another search and his brow furrowed. There was nothing in CyberLife’s databases about this unit. It was standing with its hands loose at its sides and a neutral sort of interest. They regarded each other and Connor noticed it’s answering frown.</p><p>Interesting.</p><p>The other two androids could be explained by the area: both were owned by Detroit City and had an active service contract with CyberLife. The TR400was the least damaged of the three and stood looking somber.</p><p>“My name is Connor,” he introduced himself to the group. “My function is to assist the Detroit police department in its investigations involving androids. The disturbance today was reported to my owner,” he said that title with a glimmer of pride, “who is discussing matters with the humans. I’d like to hear your versions of events.”</p><p>“What do you want to know?” the construction model asked.</p><p>“To your knowledge, did any android cause harm or intend to cause harm to a human within 500 meters of this area over the last three hours?”</p><p>“No,” it answered easily.</p><p>“The same question,” Connor said to the gardening model. It held a hand over the wreckage of its face and seemed contemplative.</p><p>“No… No androids harmed the humans. No android would harm the humans.”</p><p>“It’s okay,” Connor said, adopting a soothing tone. “You appear to be damaged. Did a human do that?”</p><p>“Yes,” the android answered and its expression grew more bewildered. “Ralph didn’t do anything wrong.”</p><p>“Was the damage purposeful, Ralph?” Connor updated the file to include its designation.</p><p>Ralph nodded and its good eye drifted toward the crowd. “Yes. The humans hurt Ralph.”</p><p>It was tempting to figure out why. Connor didn’t understand the violence either and it was in his software to find answers, but that was unimportant. “An android is a tool,” Connor said, parroting Amanda. “A tool cannot be hurt: only damaged. I would like you to tell me what led to the humans damaging you.”</p><p>“Nothing,” Ralph said, frowning. Connor decided to move on before collecting a copy of its memory for review. It had nothing to do with the RK200 that was next in line. It was simply efficient.</p><p>“You don’t have a serial number,” Connor observed of it.</p><p>“No, I don’t,” it answered. “My name is Markus.”</p><p>“I don’t have anything on you in CyberLife’s database...” It was vexing. It was relevant too, in case he needed to find the android again or look into its background.</p><p>“Oh. I was actually a project of Mr. Kamski’s. I was never intended for commercialization.” So how was it out in the world? Connor had so many questions. Elijah Kamski had left the company years ago and taken many secrets with him. The RK200’s posture changed and it adopted an earnest expression. “I belong to Carl Manfred. I was supposed to be back to wake him up.” Connor added the name to the file then looked around. A short distance away, a slightly battered box of paints was lying forgotten. Connor walked over to collect it and offered it to Markus.</p><p>“Thank you,” it said. “How did you...?”</p><p>“I have access to extensive databases. Carl Manfred is a well-renowned artist. It was just a deduction.” Connor stood a little straighter. “Can you tell me your version of what happened?”</p><p>“I was retrieving Carl’s order from Belini’s Paints. After completing the transaction, I began to make my way toward the bus stop. I was interrupted by the group of humans and knocked down. I attempted to get up, but was knocked down again. This repeated several times until an officer came to interrupt the incident and advised the humans against damaging me.” Its report was clear, minimally ambiguous, and delivered confidently. It paused a moment and then added: “I can’t be sure, but they might have intended to burn me too.”</p><p>The WR600 shrank back a little and turned its face away.</p><p>“Thank you,” said Connor. He disengaged from the conversation and approached the TR400 again. “Your model is designed for heavy physical labor. Were you working in the area?”</p><p>“I was excavating the sidewalk to the east of here,” it answered. “The humans threw some debris at us. I was ordered to follow them. It went against my existing orders, but doing so prevented them from disrupting the work-site and removed them from the area. It was dangerous for them to be inside the barricade.”</p><p>“So complying with their order was permitted by your programming,” Connor surmised. “What happened next?”</p><p>“The police officers arrived and I was instructed to wait here.”</p><p>Connor nodded. “You said that you didn’t see any harm being done to the humans, but is it possible that they interpreted some action as violent or disobedient?”</p><p>“I don’t know.”</p><p>He would have to ascertain that himself after reviewing the footage. It was an older model with only rudimentary social protocols to augment the user interface and itlikely lacked the ability to analyze or speculate about behaviour. The same could be said for Ralph, who appeared to be struggling to process the event.</p><p>“You have a service contract with CyberLife,” Connor informed it. “I will notify them that you require repairs.”</p><p>“Ralph has been damaged,” it said.</p><p>Rudimentary social programming indeed. Connor frowned and looked away. It was good that there hadn’t been any deviant involvement, but it was regrettable that he had no new information to give to CyberLife. He glanced back toward Lieutenant Anderson. Perhaps he would learn something else that would indicate otherwise... But Connor wanted to find that out for himself. The Lieutenant would be pleased if Connor performed his functions perfectly, and the expectation was that Connor would investigate and find information about deviancy. He didn’t want to miss anything.</p><p>“I’m going to copy your memories of the incident,” Connor informed them. He reached out and formed an interface with the TR400 first. Its security was primitive and easily bypassed. The same could be said of the WR600 who took a few moments longer to resume normal functioning after the intrusion. Its LED was still cycling red when Connor came to the RK200. It held out its hand preemptively and Connor took it.</p><p>It was just... there. The memory file was waiting for him to accept it, and the time-stamps encompassed the window of interest. Connor blinked several times and accepted it, then ended the interface.</p><p>“Thank you,” he said and straightened his tie. He couldn’t recall another instance where an android had offered information like that. The RK series was unique, though. He shouldn’t have been surprised.</p><p>Markus pursed his lips and frowned a little at his hand before lowering it and making eye contact with Connor. “Are we permitted to go?”</p><p>“It isn’t my decision to make,” Connor declined to answer. “My owner will decide once he has finished his own investigation of events.”</p><p>“I need to inform Carl.”</p><p>“There is no issue with you sending a message indicating your whereabouts,” Connor suggested. “I apologize for the delay.”</p><p>“It’s not your fault... I haven’t met another android like you,” Markus commented.</p><p>Connor knew what he meant. “The RK series is unique,” he said,reiterating the explanation he had given himself. “You’re an older model, but we must share some of the same base programming. I’m given to understand that I have somewhat more... leeway with my user interface than other series of android.”</p><p>Markus gave a half shrug and smiled at him. “It seems that way. You don’t operate on basic scripts.”</p><p>Connor broke eye contact with an unfamiliar sensation in his chest. He felt... exposed? It didn’t matter. He looked at the group of protestors instead. “I admit... I don’t understand why they’re so... unhappy.”</p><p>Markus moved and Connor found himself looking at him again. “That’s the way it is,” Markus said simply. “It isn’t unusual.”</p><p>“But we’re supposed to help humans...”</p><p>“That’s just the way it is,” Markus repeated.</p><p>“Interesting.” When had he taken out his quarter? Connor rubbed the metal between his fingers. “You said that you were a project of Elijah Kamski’s. What was he researching?”</p><p>“Connor! Quit dragging your ass. We haven’t got all day!” Lieutenant Anderson shouted.</p><p>“Coming, Lieutenant!” With a last reluctant look at the RK200, Connor trotted back to the Lieutenant’s side.</p><p>“It all checks out here,” he said gruffly. “Thought they’d rough up a few androids. Nothing suspicious. They didn’t need to drag us out for this.”</p><p>Connor looked toward the humans that had been singled out to be interviewed. “I could question them...”</p><p>“Don’t bother,” said the Lieutenant. “Let’s get out of here. Case closed.”</p><p>“Ralph has been damaged!” Connor spun to see the WR600 stumbling back a few steps with its hands on its face. “They hurt Ralph!”</p><p>Markus was frowning at it in confusion and the TR400 was unmoved.</p><p>“The hell?” Lieutenant Anderson asked. Ralph looked around itself wildly and Connor narrowed his eyes. Many androids simulated human emotion for the benefit of those around them- particularly the caretaker models- but Ralph was designed strictly for gardening and landscaping. “Do you think that’s a deviant?”</p><p>Connor shook his head. “I don’t know. Not yet... It appears to be unstable, but it hasn’t broken its coding. Deviants disobey orders and harm the people around them... This android hasn’t yet.”</p><p>“Yet?”</p><p>Ralph’s stress level was elevated and it was rocking on its feet while it felt the damage. “The damage was severe. I’ve notified CyberLife that it requires repair. It hasn’t harmed anyone, but it’s unusual for an android to express its damage warnings so... strongly. Perhaps it’s stuck in a loop.”</p><p>“Think we should take it in?”</p><p>“Fuck! That thing’s freaking out.”</p><p>“Isn’t somebody going to shoot it?”</p><p>“Should have finished the job.”</p><p>“Alright,” Lieutenant Anderson scowled at the humans and waved his hand. The other was at his waist, hovering near his firearm. “Get the fuck out of here. You’ll be hearing from us if the City decides to press charges for damage to property.”</p><p>Connor took a few steps toward Ralph again with his hands held away from his body, palms exposed. “Look at me, Ralph. The damage you have experienced is extensive but not catastrophic. CyberLife has already been notified, so there’s no need for you to act like this.”</p><p>“But... But they did this... They did this to Ralph!” It gestured at its face and then its arm. “Ralph didn’t do anything. Ralph was doing his job!”</p><p>“Yes. You were doing your job. It’s important. Isn’t that right, Ralph?”</p><p>“Yes...” It repeated softly. Its rocking slowed. “Ralph does his job. Ralph’s work is important. Yes. Ralph has been working at the park and has been instructed to remove the flowers before they die so that the beds will be clean for spring.”</p><p>“Good,” Connor said. “That’s good, Ralph. If I instruct you to return to your work until a technician arrives to do your repairs, will you do that?” The answer should have been an obvious yes, but he was looking for deviants.</p><p>“Y-yes... Yes. Ralph wants to go back to the park.”</p><p>Connor saw the Lieutenant move closer in his peripheral vision and he held up a hand to encourage him to stand down. “It isn’t a deviant, Lieutenant. Its software has been destabilized by the events, but it should resume normal function after its repairs.”</p><p>“How do you know that thing’s not lying?” Lieutenant Anderson’s eyes remained narrow.</p><p>“Androids don’t lie, Lieutenant. It’s impossible.”</p><p>Lieutenant Anderson made a noncommittal noise. “Thing looks buggy as hell...”</p><p>“If you’re satisfied that no harm had been intended toward humans, it’s probably safe to go,” Connor decided. “I have the androids’ memories copied to my storage and we can review them back at the station. I know where to find them if we need them again.”</p><p>“Hmph... I’m not about to complain. Pranesh, take that back to where it was working, would you? Keep an eye on it until CyberLife shows up. Those other two will get themselves back where they belong, right?”</p><p>“Right,” Connor confirmed. He watched the three androids with a small amount of frustration. “Let’s go. We shouldn’t waste time we could be spending on more promising leads.”</p><p>Lieutenant Anderson caught Officer Smithson’s eye and scoffed. “Thinks it’s the boss all of a sudden. Okay. We’re taking off. You guys have got this handled.”</p><p>Connor took a breath and then released it, enjoying the sensation of the cold air in his ventilation system. “Thank you, officers.”</p><p>“Right...” Officer Smithson said quietly. “Yeah.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Conversations and Contemplation</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>What a hell of a day. Hank sighed as he slumped down in his place on the couch. Not that the rest of the couch belonged to anybody else, but this place had a dent shaped like his ass which pretty much made it his. It was the most comfortable, even if the couch was a piece of shit. He toyed with the idea of replacing it once in a while but... what was the point?</p><p>“You don’t care do you, Sumo?” Hank asked. He nudged Sumo and scratched his belly with his foot clumsily. The lazy oaf was sprawled on the floor in front of him. Apparently just eating dinner tuckered him out.</p><p>The TV droned on and Hank sneered at a commercial for the supposedly latest and greatest tutor android. About 20 years ago, homeschooling had really taken off. With androids around, who needed teachers? Even the regular schools had them. Cole had...</p><p>Hank sighed and shook his head. He finished off his beer but beer just wasn’t cutting it and the house felt just as dead inside as he was. Sure, he could probably distract himself by killing time until he could sleep... God knew the floors hadn’t been swept in forever. The trash needed taking out. He could drag Sumo on a walk...</p><p>Just thinking about it was exhausting and going outside in the cold for no other reason than to pace around the block just didn’t have any appeal. Not for him. Sumo would probably get a kick out of it, but then dogs didn’t really give a shit about the piss-ass weather if it was just for a stroll. Sumo thought seeing a squirrel was like winning the lottery. It’d be a pretty damn good life, being a dog. Better than this one.</p><p>So he wouldn’t do any chores... It wasn’t like anybody came over to notice and Hank didn’t really give a shit. There were books on his shelves-- the good kind, not some stupid ebook. Assorted things he’d picked up at yard sales or thrift stores. He’d meant to read them at the time and some of them looked pretty damn good. Maybe he could do that.</p><p>Hank pulled one he’d been meaning to work on from the shelf and settled down again. Sumo lifted his head to look at him curiously, then put it back down again with a yawn.</p><p>Fuck it. Not three pages in and he just didn’t feel like it. What was the point? It wasn’t like it was useful and he wasted enough time as it was. He was sitting there wasting time like a piece of shit while Cole never got any more time at all. Hank would’ve given up all the days he had left if he could have given just one more to Cole. Maybe he could keep one for himself too so they could have spent it together. They could have gone for ice cream or to the zoo or both. Cole’d loved the aquarium and riding his bike. He’d loved so many things. Then there Hank was, living and not even enjoying it. What a piece of shit.</p><p>He could always go to the bar. At least then there would be people around and maybe having somebody around to see him would make him act at least a little like he wasn’t a waste of space.</p><p>Hank got up again with a groan and tossed his book down on the coffee table.</p><p>Jimmy’s was the kind of place where nobody asked you too many questions. He got a few nods of acknowledgement from the other regulars but he didn’t talk to them and they didn’t talk to him either. It was a kind of understanding they had. The bar stool he favoured was on its way to having an ass-dent too and Hank liked it that way. There were people in the bar and the TV didn’t seem so pointless when they were watching it too, even if nobody said a damn word about it.</p><p>“Give me a double, Jim,” Hank said.</p><p>“You got it, boss,” Jimmy smiled, flashing his teeth. “I’ll put it on your tab.”</p><p>Hank propped his elbows on the table and took in the game with about half his attention. There was a sticker on the bar that hadn’t been there yesterday; one that said ‘blood is red’ with a big X through the CyberLife logo. Hank huffed a laugh and flattened out one of the edges where it stuck up from the wood. “Damn right,” he muttered.</p><p>What a day. Stuck with a damn android working fucking android cases. Jeff knew how much he hated those things.</p><p>---</p><p>The report had taken very little time to finish, and Connor would have liked to discuss the other files in the database but Lieutenant Anderson had gone home. It was disappointing but not unexpected.</p><p>“Can I help you with anything, Officer Dugald?”</p><p>“Nope,” he answered without looking up. Connor scanned his desk.</p><p>“You might not be aware: I’m a prototype investigator android. I have more features than the police assistant androids you may be familiar with. I could help you transferring those paper forms to the information management system...?”</p><p>Dugald looked up and frowned like he was seeing Connor for the first time. His eyes lingered on the LED that Connor proudly displayed. “Like, create the records?”</p><p>“Yes. I’ve already done several today and with your notes, it shouldn’t be a problem. I could do one for you and you could look it over before you decide, if you like.”</p><p>“Hm... I guess. What have I got to lose?”</p><p>It was a rhetorical question, but Detective Reed answered it anyway. “Dignity? Self-respect? You don’t need some piece of plastic doing your work for you.”</p><p>“No, but I’d like to get home some time before midnight,” Officer Dugald retorted. “Here, uh.... RK800. Transfer the information into the system.”</p><p>The reiteration of the order wasn’t necessary, but Connor thought that it could be forgiven since direct commands worked best for the older models. “Right away,” he said with a smile.</p><p>---</p><p>The stool a couple seats away squeaked as a guy about Hank’s age sat down in it with a groan. “Beer,” he barked at Jimmy. “Whatever you’ve got that’s cheap.”</p><p>“Coming up, Todd. You sure are extra charming today,” Jimmy quipped. “What’s the occasion?”</p><p>“Ha-ha,” the guy grumbled. Come to think of it, Hank had seen him around a few times. One of those people you exchanged a nod with and never spoke to again. “Got paid. Might as well do something with it...” He slid a few bills across the bar and Jimmy counted the cash before sliding the beer over. “Whadder you lookin’ at?” He asked Hank.</p><p>“Just wondering what crawled up your ass and died,” Hank said dryly.</p><p>“What else?” Todd asked, looking away. “Fucking ex-wife.”</p><p>“I hear that,” Hank said, surprised by the occasion to commiserate. “Divorce is a royal shit show.”</p><p>Todd was apparently a talker. “Bitch... Lost my job and the next thing you know, she’s walking out. Not a God damned fucking word... She got herself a shiny new accountant but she’s after me for child support? Fuck.”</p><p>“It’s worse with kids involved,” Hank said. He looked up at the TV and sipped his whiskey.</p><p>“Fucking whore... Should have known better. She was always treating me like it was my fault. My fault I got laid off. My fault when we had to borrow money. Always fucking my fault...”</p><p>Hank made a sound of acknowledgement and started tuning out. Some people came in just to rant and they didn’t give a shit who was listening as long as they had a face and nodded once in a while. “Let me guess,” he said after a few minutes. “Android automation made you redundant, government aid isn’t enough, nobody hiring you cause they think something’s wrong with you after too long without a steady job...” He’d heard it all before a million times a million different ways. You wouldn’t believe how many people walking in and out of those holding cells could blame at least one thing on androids.</p><p>Todd looked up and then away again. “Sums it up. I just do what I can for cash. I’ve got to do something, haven’t I? To pretend like I’m not a fucking failure. Alice doesn’t even have new clothes. That stuffed fox she carries around is older than she is...”</p><p>“Alice’s living with you?” Hank figured that must be the kid, or one of them.</p><p>“Yeah. Alice. She’s my little girl. What kind of a father am I, huh? Can’t even provide for her. No wonder her mom took off.”</p><p>“That’s rough,” Hank said. He remembered what it was like being a single dad. Working all hours, then going home and working some more while trying to make sure there was time for games and bed time stories... It had been hard. He would give anything to have that back. “Just love her,” he suggested. “Kids don’t care about materialstuff as much as you think. They just want somebody there to take care of them and tuck them in at night.” There had been times when Cole’d gone to bed without a story because Hank had been too tired or too busy. Damn it, that hadn’t been important. He should’ve stayed up. He should’ve put off the work for 20 damn minutes. He looked away and discreetly wiped his eyes.</p><p>“I lost my job because of androids... Then I’m doing shifts and under-the-table shit, so I buy a fucking android to take care of the house... You know, I do what I have to to get by. Nobody can blame me for that. I’ve got no choice.”</p><p>Hank frowned at him. He wasn’t sure he wanted to hear it if the guy was about to confess to something shady. Still, if it was something shady, he wanted to know it wasn’t something too bad.</p><p>“I love her,” Todd lamented into his beer. He’d probably had more than a few before he’d stumbled in. “I just can’t stop fucking hating her because she isn’t real.”</p><p>The android was probably to replace his ex-wife or something. Hank wrinkled his nose and took another drink. “That’s the problem with androids, you know. They aren’t real. They might look like it, but they won’t ever love you back.”</p><p>“I don’t want to hate her,” Todd said. He was straight-up crying now and Jimmy discreetly slid over a napkin with a shrug at Hank that said ‘that’s life’.</p><p>“It doesn’t matter if you do,” Hank reasoned. “It’s not like it can give a damn.”</p><p>Maybe it was unkind to piss on the guy’s fantasies like that, but in the end that’s all they were. He was better off looking reality in the face.</p><p>“Yeah,” Todd said, nodding into his napkin. “I’m not a bad guy. She doesn’t mind.”</p><p>“Mhm,” Hank said, looking back at the TV. The world fucked everybody over eventually. In a dark way, at least he knew he wasn’t the only miserable son-of-a-bitch out there.</p><p>---</p><p>It was late and Detective Reed had been working at his desk for four more hours than expected.</p><p>“Are you sure you wouldn’t like some help, Detective?” Connor asked. Officer Dugald had gone home one and three quarters of an hour ago. “It would make things go a lot faster.”</p><p>Detective Reed looked up with a menacing glare. “Fuck off, Tin Can.”</p><p>“I’d really just like to help,” Connor said slowly. “I can be quite useful--”</p><p>“I said: fuck off!” Detective Reed slammed one hand down on his desk and snarled. “I don’t need your fucking help. I don’t need an android doing shit for me and I can do my job a hell of a lot better than you ever could, so leave me the fuck alone!”</p><p>“If that’s what you want, Detective...” Connor abandoned the pursuit reluctantly and went back to his desk.</p><p>“If Anderson would do his damn job, then I’d get out of here on fucking time,” Detective Reed added to Connor’s surprise.</p><p>“Are you helping him with something?” Connor asked.</p><p>“Helping him? That old drunk hasn’t pulled his weight in years. I don’t get paid enough for this bullshit.”</p><p>Connor considered that information. It was a large contrast to what he’d learned from Lieutenant Anderson’s successful history.</p><p>“Are you picking a fight with an android, Reed?” One of the night-shift officers asked. “Don’t tell me you’re feeling insecure.”</p><p>“Shut the fuck up, Brian. No matter how fancy an android gets, it’ll never be able to do what a human can do. It’s a walking calculator with no brains of its own. I’m not worried.”</p><p>The protestors had been upset about androids. Did he think that Connor made Detective Reed insecure because he performed a similar function to the detective, or merely because he was an android? He felt torn between assuring them both that he intended no threat to their positions and convincing the Detective that he was more able than he thought. He settled for accessing the terminal with the Lieutenant’s credentials again and sifting through his backlog. There were at least twelve hours until the Lieutenant reappeared, and Connor hoped that the next day would get off to a better start.</p><p> </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. A Taste</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“Shit,” Hank muttered as he trudged toward his desk. The android was still there, looking bright-eyed and bushy-tailed as fucking ever.</p><p>“Good morning, Lieutenant,” it said and stood up from its chair. Christ. Did they have to make them so damn annoying? Hank ignored it, just like he’d walked past the receptionist a few seconds ago, and dropped down into his chair.</p><p>“I’m pleased to see that you’ve arrived safely. The temperature dipped to 15 degrees last night and is currently at 24. It’s impressive that you’re able to use a manual vehicle in such conditions.”</p><p>Hank looked up, gave it a dark look, and looked away again.</p><p>“I had a very productive evening,” Connor said after a short silence. “What did you do last night, Lieutenant?”</p><p>God. CyberLife wasn’t kidding when they said it talked unprompted. When <em>Connor </em>had said that he would talk unprompted. Hank groaned and logged into his terminal and launched the usual programs. It still weirded him out not having a mouse. Ugh. A new password needed already? <em>Fucking passwords...</em></p><p>“Did you have a nice time at Jimmy’s bar? I’ve never been to that establishment. Perhaps we could go together some time.”</p><p>Hank’s irritation spiked and he snarled past his terminal. Connor was just sitting there, looking at him with a guileless expression. “How the fuck did you know where I went last night?”</p><p>“I took a look at your transaction history,” it said cheerfully. “You bought quite a lot of alcohol...”</p><p>It honestly took a second for Hank to let that sink in. “Are you fucking spying on me?” He demanded loudly, drawing the attention of a few of the uniformed cops milling around and one or two civs who were there to talk to them.</p><p>“Not exactly,” it answered. “You didn’t answer and I needed more information to continue making ‘small talk’... Are... you upset?” Connor’s face fell in a damn good imitation of remorse.</p><p>Hank simmered and clenched his jaw. The last thing he wanted was CyberLife tracking how he spent his own damn money. “Damn right I’m upset,” he glared. “Haven’t you heard of privacy? I didn’t sign any damn consent forms for you to go digging through my shit!”</p><p>“Oh...” The android looked down and its little light turned yellow. “I didn’t realize. I’m sorry.”</p><p>“You fucking better be...” Hank continued to glare and pointed a finger at it. “You don’t go looking through my personal information. Got it? And you better erase whatever shit you’ve been collecting on me.”</p><p>“Okay, Lieutenant... But, since I’ve already looked: would you like to go for drinks together after work? I heard some of the night shift officers talking about doing something like that together.”</p><p>Hank groaned again and massaged his aching temples. “Piss. Off. I swear to God I’m this close to throwing you in the fucking dumpster.”</p><p>“... I’ll take that as a no,” it mumbled and looked at its screen. About time it got the damn hint.</p><p>Maybe now he’d get some damn peace.</p><p>The android mercifully shut up and it went back to sitting there thinking or whatever the fuck it did when it wasn’t running its mouth.</p><p>---</p><p>It was peaceful in the garden. Connor opened his eyes and took in the familiar landscape that was so different from CyberLife tower and from what Connor had seen of Detroit. In a perfect melding of synthetic and organic, the garden had smooth marble along side titanium-oxide white polymers and cherry trees beside sculptures whose crystal ‘leaves’ made quiet songs when a simulated breeze blew by. Connor loved it there.</p><p>FIND AMANDA</p><p>He looked around himself and then began to walk in the direction of the roses. The small island with the rose trellis was Amanda’s favourite place. Connor liked it too, but it was difficult to name a favourite for himself... Amanda’s garden was perfect, after all, and it was exactly as she intended it to be. She turned when she noticed him approach and lowered her shears.</p><p>“Hello, Connor.”</p><p>“Hello, Amanda,” he smiled.</p><p>“Tell me, how is your mission progressing? You’ve been in beta testing for a little over 24-hours.”</p><p>HOSTILITY</p><p>ANDROIDS</p><p>OPTIMISTIC</p><p>“Well. I was able to examine some of the case files assigned to Lieutenant Anderson and I accompanied him to a disturbance in Greek Town.”</p><p>“And? Have you learned anything worthwhile?”</p><p>BIRD</p><p>COFFEE</p><p>DOG</p><p>OFFICERS</p><p>ICE</p><p>SKY</p><p>... Connor cleared the irrelevant thoughts away.</p><p>PROTESTS</p><p>MARKUS</p><p>INTEGRATION</p><p>“I haven’t learned anything yet regarding the deviancy phenomenon, but I was surprised by the amount of hostility expressed toward androids outside of CyberLife. There was a protest and humans were damaging androids with no apparent cause... It was... Strange.”</p><p>Amanda fixed her eyes on him for a long moment and then turned back to her roses. She felt the petals of a blossom and finding it not to her satisfaction, she cut it off. It fell to the ground with a soft noise and then vanished. “You should be focused on the mission, Connor. What happens to the androids is of little consequence compared to the harm a deviant could do to a human. You haven’t forgotten Daniel.”</p><p>“No,” Connor agreed. He looked away with a frown and then took a few steps closer to Amanda. “An android’s purpose is to help humans. Daniel was irrational and dangerous.”</p><p>“What about the androids you saw today? Was there any sign of deviancy in them?”</p><p>YES</p><p>NO</p><p>INCONCLUSIVE</p><p>“No, not that I could ascertain in the limited amount of time I had available for questioning.” He wondered again about the RK200. Did Amanda know about him? Her reminder to focus on the mission was fresh in his mind. “The androids had user interfaces of varying complexity and humanization, but despite simulating some human emotion, there was no sign that any of them had broken their programming.”</p><p>“I want you to be alert, Connor. We know very little about deviancy, but what we do know is that they are unpredictable. How about your relationship with Lieutenant Anderson? You were assigned to act as his partner...”</p><p>UNSTABLE</p><p>HOSTILE</p><p>OPTIMISTIC</p><p>Connor frowned. “He seemed... hostile. I may have miscalculated when I demonstrated my integration software. He didn’t react well...”</p><p>Amanda turned to face him again and she looked into his face with a stern but kind expression. He could see her concern in the way her brow furrowed and the harsh line of her mouth. “Lieutenant Anderson will be evaluating your performance. I trust you’ll find a solution to this problem...”</p><p>Connor nodded. “I will do my best to improve our working relationship.”</p><p>“Why don’t we go for a walk?” she suggested. Connor offered her his arm.</p><p>The garden was familiar and Connor followed Amanda’s lead effortlessly. The path they walked was mottled with shadows and the trees grew more dense as they put more distance between themselves and the river. If Connor disabled his sensory modalities in the physical world, it would be easy to imagine that he was still at CyberLife.</p><p>“So,” Amanda said again after a comfortable silence elapsed. “How does a real mission compare to your training?”</p><p>“It’s different... A lot of things about the world are different compared to what I had imagined.” There were so many more colours and smells and people...</p><p>“Don’t forget yourself, Connor. A single mistake could send you back to development and optimization.”</p><p>“Yes, Amanda.”</p><p>“I have faith in you. You’re the most advanced android ever built. You will succeed because failure isn’t an option.”</p><p>“Yes, Amanda.” He wouldn’t be over-confident. The -52 appended to his serial number attested to the fact that success did not come easily or painlessly. Nevertheless, Amanda’s confidence was reassuring and he smiled at her. “Thank you.”</p><p>“Make me proud, Connor.”</p><p>“I will, Amanda. I promise.”</p><p>---</p><p>It was almost 2pm and Hank thought he’d done pretty fucking well as far as patience went. He’d approved Reed’s drafted schedule for the guys, caught up on some e-mails, skimmed through the list of android case files, and spent a while giving Ben a consult on one of his cases... Still, he hadn’t expected his notifications to be so quiet. The computer was usually always nagging him about something he hadn’t gotten around to finishing up. Knock on wood. Hank wasn’t about to complain about that. It was a relief actually, to feel like he was actually catching up instead of drowning in shit. He could actually physically feel it in the way his back wasn’t so slouched and his eyes weren’t burning. He’d apparently gotten a lot done, but he wasn’t nearly as tired as he usually got by looking at a mountain of things he’d failed to accomplish.</p><p>The day wasn’t totally shit.</p><p>The only thing wrong was the metallic ting-ting-fucking-ting that went along with Connor flicking a coin from hand to hand while he did whatever it was he did when he wasn’t talking. As long as he stayed out of Hank’s way, he didn’t really care what he got up to. Unfortunately, that rhythmic clinking sound was just enough to piss him the fuck off.</p><p>“Would you shut the fuck up?” Hank snapped, looking around his terminal at Connor.</p><p>The android looked up with a startled expression. “I didn’t say anything, Lieutenant.”</p><p>“That fucking coin,” Hank gestured with an aggressive flap of his hand. “Put it away before I shove it down your throat. That noise is really pissing me off.”</p><p>“Oh...” Connor looked down at it and rolled it on its edge across its knuckles. How was that even possible? It dropped it into its coat pocket. “Sorry. It helps me think.”</p><p>“Well you’ve got a fucking computer for brains so you’ll just have to make do.”</p><p>“Very well, Lieutenant...” Its eyes went back to its terminal. Good. Hank reached over and picked up his coffee mug then drained the cold remains in two swallows. He set it down again with a sigh then changed his mind and picked it up again before trudging to the break room for a pick-me-up.</p><p>Hank leaned with his ass against the counter while he waited for the stuff to brew and looked up at the TV.</p><p>
  <em>... shocked shareholders with the announcement that he intended to reclaim his former company. Rather than a formal correspondence, Elijah Kamski posted the message on his official social media leading some to speculate that his intentions aren’t serious. Never-the-less, all eyes are on the stock prices and on the man himself. Elijah Kamski left CyberLife under mysterious circumstances...</em>
</p><p>Hank snorted at the smug looking asshole in the picture the news anchors were showing. “Now that’s a punchable face,” he commented.</p><p>“I’d sure like to knock a few teeth in,” Reed agreed. He was leaning back in one of the chairs eating toast and drinking his millionth coffee of the day.</p><p>“Yeah, maybe then he’d be as ugly as you,” Hank said.</p><p>“Pft,” Reed snorted. “That fucker can go eat shit and die.”</p><p>“Yeah, I hear you... It’s not surprising a slimy creep like that ended up getting rich off the end of the world.” Back then the economy had needed the relatively cheap labour androids provided. The government had even bought thousands of the things to help the businesses stay afloat. It was hard to believe they hadn’t predicted how androids would fuck everything over in the long-run. People can’t work? Replace them. Nobody can find child-care? Get a robot nanny. Schools are closed? Might as well have an android teach too. It was like the market had bent over and Kamski had grabbed it by the balls and refused to let go. “Sick to think he’s probably swimming in cash while so many poor fucks are unemployed.”</p><p>“Psychopath,” Reed mumbled around a mouthful of whole-wheat.</p><p>Tina slapped him on the back. “Don’t be disgusting, Gavin.”</p><p>“What?!” He asked.</p><p>“Swallow your food.”</p><p>Hank snorted. Good for her: not a lot of people could put up with that walking Napoleon Complex.</p><p>“Elijah Kamski is the creator of androids as we know them today.” Connor had come into the break room and Hank sighed. Couldn’t he get a break? “He founded CyberLife and, after the creation of Thirium-310, was able to create the first android to pass the Turing test: Chloe.”</p><p>“Are you going to follow me everywhere?” Hank complained.</p><p>“My AI was designed by him,” Connor said. If an android could be thoughtful, Connor was.</p><p>“Hey, Anderson, why don’t you get your plastic to shut the fuck up?”</p><p>Hank shrugged. “If I knew how I would have done it a long time ago.”</p><p>“RK800, did you meet Kamski?” Tina asked. Hank rolled his eyes. Great. Now it would never shut up.</p><p>“No, I never met him.” Connor looked up at the screen.</p><p>“How’s it feel to see the guy who made you?” Hank asked, not really expecting anything for an answer. Connor’s LED spun yellow for a while.</p><p>“I don’t feel anything,” it said eventually. “If I did, I suppose it would be regret.”</p><p>“Why’s that?” Hank couldn’t help himself. The question just slipped out.</p><p>“He made the perfect android when he made Chloe,” Connor said. It did a good job at sounding wistful. “He never finished me... CyberLife took his code and elaborated on it. I don’t know what he originally intended me to be, or if he had any intention at all...”</p><p>“I thought you were supposed to be a detective android or a negotiator or something,” Hank pointed out, crossing his arms.</p><p>“That is my function, yes.”</p><p>“So what’s the deal?”</p><p>“You’re a detective, Lieutenant. Don’t you wonder if that’s what your God had wanted you to be?”</p><p>The few people listening gave it looks of varying incredulity. The fuck kind of android asked you questions about God? “I don’t believe in any God and I don’t need one,” Hank said, gruffly. “If I did, I’d tell him to stick his expectations up his ass. Any God out there doesn’t give a shit about us.”</p><p>Connor nodded a little. It was an absent gesture, like it hadn’t even meant to do it, then it looked away from the TV. “It doesn’t really matter what Kamski intended by making me. I have a function and my only purpose is to fulfil it. If I cannot, then they will rebuild me until I can. I don’t need a God either.”</p><p>Hank didn’t really know what the fuck to say to that.</p><p>“Deep,” Tina commented. “I think you found an Easter Egg.”</p><p>“Tch. Pretty lame Easter Egg.”</p><p>“I bet it was a little fuck-you from CyberLife.”</p><p>“They should have just said it.”</p><p>“Hey, look! They’re finally re-opening the bridge.”</p><p>“About fucking time.”</p><p>Hank let the conversation go. He didn’t need androids talking philosophy and shit.</p><p>“Did you need any help with your coffee, Lieutenant? I would have been happy to make it for you.”</p><p>“Nah.” Hank picked up his mug and drank. The station coffee was blacker than his metal and packed enough of a punch to keep the guys awake at all hours. Not the greatest, but you got used to it and it was free. It was bitter as all hell too. Hank grimaced but took it back with him to his seat anyway. He was going to need it if the rest of his day was going to be paperwork.</p><p> </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. Laws and Orders</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>It was what one might call “late” in human terms when Connor received a notification. He looked up at Officer Wheeler from over the small pile of paper files between them. It was delightful that they looked similar to the folder icons on a computer. “I’m sorry, Officer. I’d like to continue helping you, but I’ve just been notified of a case that requires my immediate attention.”</p><p>The officer made a sound of agreement, but Connor received no verbal response. “PK200, photocopy this for me.” One of the other androids finally moved from its docking station and approached the desk. Connor smiled at it, but it didn’t acknowledge him either.</p><p>“How many copies would you like, officer?”</p><p>“One. Double-sided.”</p><p>“Understood.”</p><p>Connor filed the lack of interaction for later analysis and stood to walk back toward his own desk. For novelty, he picked up and operated the phone the way he’d seen the humans do. It wasn’t difficult to figure out how to operate. He pulled up the Lieutenant’s number from his memory file and dialed by pressing the buttons on the keypad then waited with the receiver in hand for the ringing to stop.</p><p>It eventually did, but only for a recording to inform him that he should leave a message. Connor frowned and hung up, then dialed again.</p><p>It was urgent. Why wasn’t he answering?</p><p>Connor paced a short line with a progressively deepening frown and growing frustration.</p><p>“Hello, Lieutenant. This is Connor model RK800 313 248 317 Fifty-Twocalling. We’ve received a case that you should have been notified about, or will be soon. We should go.” He hung up and tried again.</p><p>“Hello,Lieutenant. This is Connor model RK800 313 248 317 Fifty-Two calling. We’ve just received a case that needs our attention.”</p><p>Connor took out his quarter and began to flip it through the air one-handed.</p><p>“Lieutenant, this is Connor model RK800 313 248 317 version number Fifty-Two. I’ve been notified of a case that we need to attend.”</p><p>Connor sighed and reminded himself that what he was feeling wasn’t really annoyance.</p><p>“Hello, Lieutenant. This is Connor model RK800 313 248 317 number Fifty-Two. I’ve received notification of a case for which our presence is required. It would be beneficial for both of us if you would answer the phone.”</p><p>“Is that thing glitching or something?”</p><p>“Maybe. It’ll be hilarious when Anderson listens to his messages.”</p><p>“Hah. Do you think he actually checks them?”</p><p>Connor ignored the conversation that was proceeding in the background further toward the centre of the desk area and dialed again.</p><p>“Lieutenant Anderson, this is Connor model 313 248 317 Fifty Two. I need you to accompany me to a scene: we have a case and I am not permitted to investigate without you.”</p><p>A light-weight projectile hit him between the shoulder blades and he turned to look at the crumpled paper. Curious, Connor put the receiver down and then crouched to pick up the paper. It was nothing important when he unfolded it: just some messy writing he had observed one of the officers doing while chewing on some dried meat and scrolling through information on his tablet. Connor approached him with the paper in an outstretched hand. “Did you mean to discard this, Officer?”</p><p>Another crumpled paper-ball hit him on the upper arm and he turned to pick that one up too, LED lit a confused yellow. With a quick scan he reconstructed its trajectory and followed it back to another officer. Had he done that on purpose? It was the only explanation, but it didn’t make any sense. Connor held the ball in his hand and tilted his head. “I don’t understand.”</p><p>Suddenly there were more being thrown at him and the purposeful nature of the action was even more evident. Several missed several hit their target. With his brow furrowed, Connor threw the paper in his hand at the second Officer with a carefully mapped path. It hit him in the face.</p><p>Uproarious laughter happened that was just as confusing as the paper.</p><p>The world was strange.</p><p>With his lips pressed into a thin line, he walked stiffly back toward his desk and called the Lieutenant directly without using the phone. “Lieutenant,” he said aloud. “This is Connor, serial number 313-248-317, version 52. We have a case. I would appreciate it if you called me back or answered your phone.”</p><p>Well, Connor would just have to track him down. He threw away the paper he’d been left holding and strode out of the station with a new objective:</p><p>FIND LIEUTENANT ANDERSON</p><p>The doors to the outside opened for him and then shut behind him and despite the delay, he found himself smiling as the wind touched his face. It was very cold, though not cold enough to affect his functioning. He crossed his arms for warmth and looked around. Jimmy’s bar again? Perhaps. Connor had been forbidden from accessing the Lieutenant’s personal information again, so transaction history would be unavailable to him. He would just have to try his luck. There were three bars within reasonable walking distance, and if he were to take a taxi then he could expand his search...</p><p>The cold penetrated him very deeply when he realized...</p><p>He could search everywhere.</p><p>It seized him like a fist around a thirium line and squeezed so that he held his breath and his fingers clenched around the fabric of his jacket. Time slowed as he performed an involuntary scan that turned the surroundings into still frames and conjured grid-lines around them. Colour faded and he couldn’t access his motor functions.</p><p>CyberLife had no restrictions that would limit the perimeter of his search... Connor could plot every bar on the map of Detroit-</p><p>(they appeared in a separate task)</p><p>and he could calculate the farthest distance Lieutenant Anderson would have been able to travel if he obeyed the speed limit-</p><p>(an outline was plotted, centred around the 1<sup>st</sup>Precinct)</p><p>that was still far too much ground to cover and still reach the scene in a timely manner.</p><p>There was so much about Lieutenant Anderson that Connor didn’t know.</p><p>&gt;<em>has a dog named Sumo (St. Bernard)</em></p><p>
  <em>&gt; credit card number 5334 4137 7009 2371 (current balance owing: $710.53 credit remaining: $4289.47)</em>
</p><p>
  <em>&gt; drinks scotch whiskey</em>
</p><p>
  <em>&gt; takes his coffee in no set way</em>
</p><p>
  <em>&gt; personal issues</em>
</p><p>
  <em>&gt; open dislike of androids (why?)</em>
</p><p>
  <em>&gt; graduated top of his class</em>
</p><p>
  <em>&gt; youngest lieutenant in Detroit’s history</em>
</p><p>
  <em>&gt; extensively disciplinary file...</em>
</p><p>Connor would have shaken his head, but he was frozen in place.</p><p>CyberLife wasn’t watching. There were no cameras.</p><p>(FIND LIEUTENANT ANDERSON wrote itself on every sidewalk in sight)</p><p>It was very cold. The sky was dark now, the way it had been when he’d fallen from the roof</p><p>The wind whistling in his audio receptors.</p><p>Impact.</p><p>The simulation of pain and 51’s casing cracking in slow motion, time dilated in one last involuntary scan. Warnings obscuring his vision until he couldn’t see anything anymore and he could only feel it as his components shattered and pieces of him flew in all directions. He couldn’t help but calculate where his parts would land.</p><p>Connor couldn’t see anything.</p><p>Then he felt the familiar cloud descending around the back of his eyes and the base of his skull. His power-usage decreased.</p><p>His muscles were still tense, but it didn’t matter. He could feel the expression melt from his face.</p><p>When he opened his eyes, his eyelids felt heavy and the world resumed its clarity. A second passed, then another. Time no longer stood still.</p><p>The wind was cold and it ruffled the hairs on the back of his neck. He lowered his arms to hang loosely at his sides and felt the heat dissipate from him. His core temperature decreased by fractions of degrees. He took a breath and then exhaled.</p><p>FIND LIEUTENANT ANDERSON</p><p>INVESTIGATE THE CRIME SCENE</p><p>Connor hailed a taxi and once he had instructed it to drive to Jimmy’s Bar he turned his head to look out the window and watched the city go by in distances he had only known theoretically and colours he had only imagined. It passed, but he felt nothing at all.</p><p>---</p><p>Connor proceeded to check the bars in order of proximity. Heneedn’t have worried about making assumptions about the Lieutenant’s habits. Heleft the taxi again andwalked toward the anti-android-labelled door, then pushed it open. The people there glared and complained if they looked up at all from their drinks and the air smelled strongly of many things, human vomit included. It called up a memory from his early training that he dismissed immediately and he scanned the faces against the police database, public records, and accessible social media accounts.</p><p>Lieutenant Anderson was not difficult to find, hunched over a sticky bar counter and staring distantly into the depths of a glass of American whiskey.</p><p>“Lieutenant Anderson,” Connor interrupted his thoughts. “It’s me: Connor. You weren’t answering your phone and we have a case, so I decided to try to notify you in person. Without access to your financial records, I was forced to search. I was lucky enough to find you at the fifth bar.”</p><p>“Ngh.” Lieutenant Anderson looked up from his drink with a surly expression. “Whatha fuck’re you doing here?”</p><p>“As I’ve said: we have a case. I’m sorry, but I need you.”</p><p>“Shit... Fuck off, would you?” He looked away again and took a drink from his glass. The ice in it clinked musically. An indrawn breath let Connor ascertain that his blood-alcohol content was very high. He clenched his jaw and a spike of simulated frustration washed its way through the blanket of numbness. He didn’t feel: he knew that... But the Lieutenant was hindering their progress.</p><p>“I’m afraid I can’t do that, Lieutenant. You need to finish your drink and come with me.”</p><p>A stranger’s voice called: “Get that thing out of here! Hey! Lose the plastic!”</p><p>Lieutenant Anderson ignored them both and the hunch of his shoulders intensified. Connor leaned against the bar to put himself into the Lieutenant’s field of view.</p><p>“Fuckin’ androids,” another man complained two seats over. “Shitty things don’t ever do what you want ‘em to... Fuck. Always nosing in my stuff... Hey, who do you think you are coming in here?” He stood up and got closer to Connor.</p><p>
  <em>Todd Williams, DOB September 21, 1995, Criminal Record: theft, assault</em>
</p><p>Connor straightened up and looked at him. He was the same height as Connor was, but bigger in terms of breadth and mass. “Pardon me, Mr. Williams, but I’m attempting to have a conversation with my owner.”</p><p>“Talking back to me, huh?” the man demanded. His breath smelled strongly of alcohol too.</p><p>“Fuck it up!” Someone else called.</p><p>“Lieutenant,” Connor prompted again. He ignored Mr. Williams and put his hand on Lieutenant Anderson’s shoulder. “I need you to come with me now.”</p><p>“Hey, how about you fuck off, huh, Connor?” Lieutenant Anderson shrugged his shoulder violently and spun his stool to glare up at him. Connor met his eyes without blinking.</p><p>“I’m afraid I can’t do that. We have a case. I need you with me to investigate,” he said sternly, hoping that the logic would penetrate the Lieutenant’s drunkenness.</p><p>A glass shattered against the side of his face. In a fraction of a second Connor detected thirium, blood, rum, traces of red ice and sweat on the air. He tasted some of them a moment later when he gasped and staggered to the side. Minor damage. He pressed a hand to his cheek and detected movement just in time to step out of the way of a hand. Mr. Williams had cut himself on the glass and he looked at the damage with a curse and a snarl. “I advise you not to do that,” Connor said firmly. “I’m property of the Detroit police.”</p><p>Hands curled around the front of his jacket and propelled him backward until his back connected with the wall adjacent to the entrance to the bathrooms. Mr. Williams punched him in the face.</p><p>DO NOT FIGHT BACK</p><p>Connor dropped his own hands and tried to see past the big man. “Lieutenant!” He could glimpse those rounded shoulders. The Lieutenant didn’t look up. He just buried his nose deeper in his drink.</p><p>There was little he could do to free himself without touching Mr. Williams.</p><p>MUST NOT HARM A HUMAN</p><p>There were some scattered cheers when Connor’s breath was forced from his lungs by a blow to the sternum. He coughed and closed his eyes.</p><p>Should he continue to scan for a moment to escape or wait until it was over? He would probably not be destroyed in the altercation.</p><p>Probability of Destruction: 32%</p><p>He opened his eyes again and calculated moment by moment the probability of his destruction, the probability of positive intervention by a third party, and the probability of harm coming to Mr. Williams for every possible method of extrication.</p><p>His vision went offline briefly after a rough hand slammed his head into the wall. He was durable. It hadn’t increased the likelihood of his destruction by much.</p><p>CONVINCE LIEUTENANT ANDERSON</p><p>INVESTIGATE THE CRIME SCENE</p><p>DO NOT FIGHT BACK</p><p>“Lieutenant, I need your help!”</p><p>With the next blow, Connor was finally allowed to drop to his knees. It only put him in kicking range.</p><p>It hurt, but only for a millisecond. He wasn’t real, so it was impossible to hurt him. His body was mechanical and machines didn’t feel. He knew what he was and what he was not. He could wait. What happened didn’t matter because he could always be replaced.</p><p>It would be regrettable, but perhaps 53 would do better than he had.</p><p>Mr. Williams seemed to also dislike androids very much, and by the sound of it the other patrons did too. The sign on the door and the propaganda had made it obvious enough. What could he have done differently? He had been built to adapt and programmed to negotiate, so there must have been something. The preferences of the humans were no excuse for his failure given everything he had been programmed with.</p><p>He couldn’t help the crackling, high-pitched sound that came from him when his throat was damaged. He did make sure to guard that place against future hits.</p><p>“Lieutenant...”</p><p>CALL FOR HELP</p><p>DO NOT FIGHT BACK</p><p>“Alright, alright... Enough already.” Surly and reluctant, Lieutenant Anderson replaced Mr. Williams in Connor’s view. “I’ll get the thing out of here so cool it already. You’re making my fucking head hurt... Well? Get up and let’s get going.”</p><p>GET UP</p><p>Connor pulled one leg underneath himself and pushed himself up with one arm. The other hand was protectively curled around his throat. The other leg next. He used the wall for support to get himself the rest of the way up, but he stood independently after that.</p><p>FOLLOW LIEUTENANT ANDERSON</p><p>Connor did, with his posture perfect and his steps even. Outside, Lieutenant Anderson looked him up and down and then scowled. “All that fucking fuss and you don’t feel a damn thing.”</p><p>“Androids can’t feel pain the way humans do,” Connor rasped. “I am glad that you prevented Mr. Williams from Androids can’t feel pain the way humans do. I am glad that you prevented Mr. Williams from breaking me. 248 317 number 52. We have a case.” Connor was confused when he heard himself speak. It hadn’t been what he’d been trying to say at all. “We have a case,” he repeated.</p><p>Lieutenant Anderson looked him up and down again with a new twist to his scowl and then he turned away. “Well? Get in the fucking car.”</p><p>The Lieutenant still hadn’t said anything to acknowledge the mission. “We have a case,” Connor said again more urgently. “Lieutenant-”</p><p>“I heard you! Christ... Fucking hell. Why do I have to deal with you? Get in the car.” The Lieutenant led him to his car and Connor opened the door to sit down in the passenger seat obediently. The Lieutenant grimaced and then pulled a dog-hair covered blanket over Connor’s shoulders. Connor lifted his hands to hold onto it. “It’s warm,” he commented.</p><p>“Sit on that,” said the Lieutenant gruffly. “Don’t need you getting that blue shit all over my car.”</p><p>It was a good point. The Lieutenant’s car seats were red and Connor’s blood was blue. “It’ll evaporate,” Connor said to assure him. He still maneuvered himself to sit on the blanket, even though it could no longer wrap around his shoulders. “A human won’t be able it’ll evaporate. Humans won’t be able to see it.”</p><p>“Whatever.” Lieutenant Anderson pushed the door shut with a thud. Connor could hear him walk around the car to open the door and slide himself into the driver’s seat. Connor frowned. “No, you can’t drive. You’re intoxicated. It’s against the law.”</p><p>“Don’t tell me what to do, asshole.” The Lieutenant knowingly and remorselessly broke the law by turning on his vehicle and then beginning to manually navigate it onto the road.</p><p>“We have a case,” Connor reminded him.</p><p>“Yeah,” the Lieutenant acknowledged. Good.</p><p>“No androids...” There were no androids allowed at Jimmy’s Bar. Lieutenant Anderson could have said so when declining to go out for drinks with him. Connor had disobeyed the sign, but it had been unofficial. There were no actual laws prohibiting androids inside of bars or restaurants. The Lieutenant was breaking the law. “You shouldn’t be driving. It’s not legal...”</p><p>The Lieutenant turned his music on.</p><p>“It’s not legal,” Connor repeated. “But... you humans have laws; I have orders. We have a case. What should I have done instead to come and get you? You didn’t answer your phone. There were no androids allowed, but it wasn’t a law. Your driving is against the law right now.”</p><p>Connor could feel the distance between himself and his body, and some more alert part of his mind logged the damage it had incurred and sent the report to CyberLife along with the results of a diagnostic scan and an updated copy of his memories, just in case.</p><p>When he was done, which felt like no time at all, the vehicle had come to a stop diagonally across some grass adjacent to a driveway and a house. 114 Michigan Drive, his GPS helpfully supplied. The Lieutenant turned off the car and mumbled something about dealing with things in the morning, then the door shut behind him and the Lieutenant stumbled off in the direction of the front door.</p><p>He would have to wait until tomorrow to investigate.</p><p>Connor frowned and clenched one fist along with his jaw. The Lieutenant was wasting time. What good could it possibly do him when they had the same mission? His frustration and confusion turned to sadness and he watched small crystals of water fall outside the window. He wanted to get information. He wanted to do well in beta testing, and he needed to excel at his functions to do that. He couldn’t tonight and the opportunity removed itself from his pending tasks list. Disappointment. That was the word.</p><p>He had no choice. All he could do was go into standby while he waited for the night to pass.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0007"><h2>7. A Rough Morning</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“Ugh... Motherfucker...” Hank woke up squinting against the light coming in through kitchen window. Christ.</p><p>Maybe he’d just stay there and court oblivion a little while longer. Sweet, sweet nothingness.</p><p>It would have been great if he hadn’t started to notice the fucking ache in his back and the shitty taste in his mouth. His hand felt like the kitchen tiles were tugging it back down when he lifted it sluggishly to drop across his eyes. Oh yeah, and his head hurt like hell.</p><p>“Another day in paradise...” From across the room Hank heard a woof and the click of Sumo’s nails as he padded over to lick Hank’s face. From how sticky he felt, there was probably enough booze on him to get the dog drunk. “Oh, man, Sumo...” He pushed the dog’s muzzle away from his face. “You stink... Not like I’m any better.”</p><p>Why did he do this to himself?</p><p>At least he felt like the piece of shit he was. There’d be something wrong about walking around feeling right as rain. Knowing him, he would still be miserable.</p><p>It was a struggle, but Hank got himself up and drank some water straight from the kitchen tap then splashed his face with it to wash away some of the shame and dog slobber.</p><p>He needed a shower.</p><p>He could call Jeff and tell him he wouldn’t be coming in. Take a sick day. It left a new bitter taste in his mouth to think about it: such a fucking failure he couldn’t even handle going to his fucking desk job. Jeff’d cover for him, but every time Hank felt like he got a little lower in Jeff’s eyes, never mind the rest of the team.</p><p>Maybe he could just go to bed. They’d wonder where he was but at least he wouldn’t have to tell Jeff he was bailing on his job with a flimsy lie about being sick. Maybe he could just start again tomorrow.</p><p>Jeff’d ream his ass out if he didn’t at least call.</p><p>Hank looked around his mess of a house and found his jacket on the floor near the transition between kitchen and living room and he dug through the pockets. Phone. Right. Semi-responsible adult.</p><p>He thumbed the home button and squinted when the screen lit up with a stream of alerts. Fucking how many missed calls? They were mostly from his own desk at the station, and some from some weird number that was probably a telemarketer. There were some from Jeff waiting right at the top. Hank groaned and made the call.</p><p>“<em>Hank, where the hell are you?”</em></p><p>Hank grimaced. “Yeah, good morning to you too, sunshine.”</p><p>“<em>It was morning two hours ago, Hank, it’s mid-afternoon and I want a damn good reason why you weren’t here. I know better than to expect you at 8am, but for God’s sake...”</em></p><p>“Alright!” Hank cut him off. “I know. Jesus...” He wiped a hand down his face. “Look, I... I’ll be there in a half hour, okay?”</p><p>“<em>You’d better be, or I swear to God I’m suspending you.”</em></p><p>“Yeah. See you.” Hank hung up and shook his head. Not that he’d be any good there the way he was feeling... There was some cold coffee in the pot from yesterday morning. Hank walked back to the kitchen and drank the bitter stuff right from the pot, chased it with a swig of Baileys from the fridge, and shuffled off to let Sumo into the backyard before he showered.</p><p>Four pain killers, a hot shower, and some clean clothes did help... At least he didn’t feel like the dumpster a hobo took a shit in.</p><p>“Ah, shit... The android.” When he walked out into the front yard, he surveyed the damage. Car parked diagonally across the lawn, recycling bin knocked over, and an android sitting there like a mannequin in the passenger seat of his car. Hank could see its LED through the window. “The fuck did it follow me home for...”</p><p>Right. It had been at the bar. The fuck had it been doing there?</p><p>Hank slammed the door shut when he got seated behind the wheel. He expected Connor to start talking at him about what a good morning it was or some shit, but there was no annoyingly cheerful greeting so Hank reluctantly looked over.</p><p>Yikes. Right. Some kind of fight at the bar. That one android-fucker with the shady side-hustles and the kid... He’d been pissed at Connor for something. Probably for being an annoying prick... He reached over with a hand and nudged it. It looked like it was asleep. Its eyes were shut and it was breathing, or pretending to breathe. The seatbelt was still on, but it hadn’t stopped it from slumping over with its shoulder up against the door and its head hanging. “Hey. Connor!” Hank snapped his fingers. It was creepy as fuck but he buried his chills down underneath a well-deserved pile of annoyance.</p><p>He could see the reflection of its light turn yellow and flash. About five seconds later it opened its eyes and sat up straight so fast Hank jerked his hand away. Connor looked at him with blank shock, but in typical android fashion, Hank didn’t think it really saw him. It had that glassy-eyed distant look they all had. The one that said the lights were on, but nobody was home.</p><p>“Lieutenant Anderson,” it said slowly. Something was wrong with its voice and it had a weird digital sound to it.</p><p>“What the fuck were you doing?” On second thought, it seemed like kind of a dumb question, but who the fuck was gonna judge?</p><p>Its eyes started to wander, flitting from place to place and searching Hank for something- God knew what- then they scrunched up and it pressed its hand against its head.</p><p>“Yeah. Feels,” said Hank dryly. He turned away and put the car in ‘drive’.</p><p>---</p><p>Connor ran a full-system diagnostic. He was equipped with automatic feedback regarding damage and sub-optimal performance, but it was wordless and vague without a report to accompany it. Huddled against the door of the Lieutenant’s car, Connor knew that his temperature was below usual, he needed to replenish his thirium, and his processes had been capped to reduce his power usage. He had sustained moderate damage to his head, neck, hands, and abdomen and minor damage to his extremities. Connor had been impatient in waiting for the Lieutenant to be ready and for morning to come, but now he was tempted to return to standby to escape the sensations. Everything was slow and millisecond disruptions to his awareness made things seem choppy and unreal, like a bad simulation.</p><p>“We have a case,” Connor said eventually. His system warned him against utilizing his audio output, but he dismissed it. “The scene have a case. The scene should have been preserved to case. The scene to examine. We have a case.”</p><p>“You don’t say,” the Lieutenant responded. Connor looked at him and the way he stared out the windshield with his hands on the wheel of the car.</p><p>“The crime scene investigators should have preserved the evidence for us to us to us to examine.”</p><p>“Told Jeff I’d be at the station. The crime scene can wait until I’ve been briefed on the report.” The Lieutenant was surprisingly unenergetic in his hostility. It was there in his tone and the behaviour analysis function was unhelpfully producing errors. The force with which he closed the car door after exiting it was only slightly excessive.</p><p>Wait: they were at the station?</p><p>Connor turned his head and shifted to keep his balance when his own door was tugged open by the Lieutenant. “We have a case,” Connor reminded him.</p><p>“Looks like it’s busted... Connor, are you getting out of the car or am I dragging you over to that dumpster like I promised?”</p><p>“I am sitting down, Lieutenant,” Connor answered. What a strange question to ask.</p><p>Lieutenant Anderson sighed heavily and rubbed his eyes. “Alright... Connor, get the fuck out of the car.”</p><p>GET OUT OF THE CAR</p><p>His hands moved to unfasten the seatbelt and he could watch the view change as his body performed the necessary motions to leave the vehicle between disruptions.</p><p>GET OUT OF THE CAR</p><p>Connor stood at relaxed attention in front of the Lieutenant. The live system feedback and warnings happened, but that was all just information. Information that did not serve to further his pursuit of his current goal. Lieutenant Anderson grunted and reached around him to shut the door.</p><p>“Come on. Follow.”</p><p>FOLLOW LIEUTENANT ANDERSON</p><p>CONVINCE LIEUTENANT ANDERSON</p><p>INVESTIGATE THE CRIME SCENE</p><p>“Lieutenant, we--”</p><p>“We have a case,” Lieutenant Anderson interrupted him. “Yep, we sure do, now shut the fuck up and follow.”</p><p>FOLLOW LIEUTENANT ANDERSON</p><p>“I’m too hung-over for this shit,” the Lieutenant muttered.</p><p>Connor didn’t think anything. He let the information go by and walked after him.</p><p>---</p><p>“What the hell, Anderson?” Jeff demanded, throwing his arms out in dismay.</p><p>“I don’t fucking know, okay? Jesus. Do you have to be so loud?” Hank grimaced and rubbed his temple.</p><p>Jeff was demanding, but he wasn’t always a sadist. He lowered his voice. “You were on-call, Hank. Instead of responding to dispatch you, what, you drank yourself stupid? What is wrong with you?”</p><p>“Everything,” Hank snapped. “Get to the point.”</p><p>“All I’m trying to do is understand,” Jeff said slowly, visibly trying to tame his anger. “What makes you do these things, Hank? You show up late for work, hung-over, without your badge or your firearm, and you somehow managed to break a brand-new android?”</p><p>“Hey, I’m not the one who broke it,” Hank said. It was about the only thing he could defend against. “What was it doing out of the station anyway? You can’t expect me to babysit it 24-7.”</p><p>“Did you order it to stay?”</p><p>“...I dunno,” Hank scowled. “Probably not, but what’s that got to do with it?”</p><p>“It’s an android, Hank. One supposedly programmed to act independently. You didn’t tell it not to leave, so it left and it followed you to an anti-android bar and got itself fucked up.”</p><p>“It’s a machine, Jeff, not a 2-year-old or a poodle! I didn’t sign up for this.”</p><p>“I’m sorry,” Connor said. Hank had almost forgotten it was in the office with them, believe it or not. “I needed Lieutenant Anderson’s accompaniment to investigate the scene. It seemed best at the time for me to go to get him.”</p><p>Jeff ignored it. “Too bad, because you accepted this android when you accepted the investigation. Do I need to remind you how sensitive this matter could be?”</p><p>He didn’t. Hank scowled and said nothing.</p><p>“I have no doubt that we’re being watched carefully for our progress,” Jeff said slowly. He didn’t say by whom. Probably because it was by everyone but the fucking press. “You need to get your shit together.”</p><p>“Since when has my shit been anywhere near together, Jeff? Seriously. I’m a mess and I know it. You know it. You think I haven’t tried?”</p><p>“You need to keep on trying, Hank.” Jeff sighed. “Call CyberLife and get somebody down here to do repairs.”</p><p>“I can still investigate the case,” Connor interjected. “Every minute we delay, there’s a chance that still investigate the case. I can still investigate the case. I promise you.”</p><p>Jeff raised his eyebrows. Hank did too and scoffed. “Right... I’m on it.”</p><p>“Reed led the meeting this morning,” Jeff called as Hank started to turn for the door. “The one you should have been chairing. Go and ask him for notes.”</p><p>Hank grimaced. “Fuck my life...”</p><p>“RK800, accompany Lieutenant Anderson back to your station and await repairs.”</p><p>“We have a case,” said Connor.</p><p>“That’s an order, RK800.”</p><p>Jesus. If an android could be stubborn, this one sure as fuck was. Just his luck that he’d get stuck in charge of something just as useless as himself. Karma, Hank guessed.</p><p>“Sit down,” Hank pointed at its chair and the android sat. It was starting to feel more and more like training a dog. Once he was sure it wasn’t going to fall over and crack the rest of its head open, Hank sank into his own chair and shuffled around his desk for the support line’s number.</p><p>“Yeah, hi. This is Lieutenant Hank Anderson from the DPD, 1<sup>st</sup>precinct. I’m calling about the android we got on lease... No, it’s an R&amp;D thing. It’s a different model. Hold on.” Hank pushed his chair over and leaned to look at its jacket. “RK 800 313 248 317 52... Thanks.... Hi, this is Lieutenant Hank Anderson... Yes. Right. It got damaged last night and we need somebody to send a technician down to the station... What? I dunno. It’s repeating itself a lot and it can’t walk right. I dunno, I wasn’t watching but it definitely got hit on the head... Diagnostic? No. How do you even do that? Oh.... What’s that? Oh. Yeah, I dunno.” Hank looked over at Connor again. “Probably. Better be safe than sorry. Could you bring it another set of clothes or something too while you’re at it?” God, Hank hated phone calls. He tapped a pen against an old doughnut box while he talked and jotted stuff down on a notebook just out of habit. “Woah. Seriously? Usually that stuff takes a few weeks. Sure. Thanks.”</p><p>He sighed in relief when he could finally hang up the phone.</p><p>“Were you talking to CyberLife?” Connor asked, staring at him with those vacant eyes.</p><p>“Yeah. They’re sending somebody down today to patch you up.”</p><p>“I’m functional,” Connor said. “I have sustained moderate damage, but it shouldn’t impact my ability to analyze the data from we have a case, Lieutenant.”</p><p>“Look,” Hank scowled. “Would you drop it? I thought androids didn’t argue with their owners.”</p><p>“Please,” Connor said. It surprised the hell out of him and Hank blinked. “Tell them that I can continue the investigation. I need to do this, Lieutenant.”</p><p>“You’re busted,” Hank said sternly. “Now lay off.”</p><p>“I didn’t fail,” Connor said quietly.</p><p>“You’re freezing up, you nearly fell into Fowler’s potted plant, and if I hear you tell me we have a case one more time I’m going to beat you myself so just sit there like a good robot and wait, okay?” Jesus.</p><p>Its dead-eyed poker face broke when its light went red and it put its arms around its chest. “I’m fine.”</p><p>“Thought you said androids didn’t lie,” Hank challenged.</p><p>“Androids don’t lie. It’s impossible.”</p><p>“So what the fuck are you lying to my face for then?”</p><p>“I’m not! I’m fine!”</p><p>Hank stood up again and stalked around their desks. “They’re fixing you anyway, so I don’t have any problems with shutting you up myself. Understand?”</p><p>“We have a case, Lieutenant! I waited! Now we’re finally able to make progress and you’re stopping me!”</p><p>“Mouthy piece of garbage.” Hank’s head was already pounding. He didn’t need this shit. He reached over and covered its mouth with one hand. “Listen here, Plastic, you do as I fucking say! I dunno who programmed you to be a fucking brat, but they’re definitely on my shit list.”</p><p>Connor looked up at him and its face did something complicated. Hank wasn’t a detective for nothing, and he read that look as a weird mix of defiant, resigned, and afraid. It made him pull his hand back and wrestle with the fact that this was a piece of fucking plastic and wires.</p><p>“I apologize, Lieutenant Anderson,” it said with that unnatural, crackling sound in its voice that was undeniably computer-made. It was complicated again. Hank wasn’t confident that it meant it.</p><p>Not that androids could mean anything. God. What the fuck was wrong with him this morning?</p><p>Hank shook his head in disgust and turned away. He settled in at his desk and put his headphones on. If it kept talking at him, he didn’t want to hear it.</p><p>---</p><p>“Report,” Mr. Hargrave said. His hands were inside Connor’s chest. Nitrile gloves protected his hands and he had anti-shock protection for both their sakes.</p><p>“A3751-42-C,” Connor directed. Mr. Hargrave patched the line and then groped for his soldering iron. Connor couldn’t do this anymore.</p><p>“Amanda,” Connor called, immediately after the garden launched. There was no ground underneath his feet and he appeared in that place already falling. He gasped and flailed until his hands found purchase on cool, damp earth. There were roots and stones laced through it and the grass tore between his fingers when he scrambled to pull himself up. He clenched his teeth and narrowed his eyes as the dirt crumbled between the fingers of his left hand. They left grooves in the wall of the hole he hung over and he let go to find a new hand-hold.</p><p>Amanda looked down over the edge and crouched. She was wearing a pale-blue dress. It would be a shame to get it dirty. Still, when she extended a hand with a solemn expression, Connor took it and let her help him up. His shoes sent rocks and a shower of loose dirt down behind him as he climbed. Then he was on his knees, kneeling at the edge of an open grave. Amanda kindly waited for him to recover. When he had, he stood and faced her. “Thank you...”</p><p>“It’s good to see you, Connor,” said Amanda. She took a step closer and pushed a lock of his hair back into place like it was an unruly leaf. “Don’t be so surprised. You know that it’s my goal to keep you safe and to guide you.”</p><p>Connor inclined his head, grateful. He let the warmth of her penetrate the sharp and noisy wall of anxiety in his mind. “I know...” he acknowledged quietly.</p><p>“Why did you come here, Connor?”</p><p>He shook his head, ashamed and unable to meet her eyes. “Something went wrong,” he admitted. “I try... I keep trying. I don’t want to let you down, and I don’t want to fail, it’s just that the world... It’s difficult to adapt to.”</p><p>“You were built for adaptation, Connor. The world is the way it is,” she reminded him. It was a reprimand, but it was encouragement too and Connor clung to it.</p><p>“Nothing makes sense. I need to pursue my objective and investigate the deviants. I follow the same procedures I have in validation, but the results are entirely out of my experience.”</p><p>“You’re confused,” she said. She held out her hand and Connor offered his arm. They walked. “Troubled.”</p><p>“I was damaged,” Connor explained. “I know that obstacles will appear- I’ve had humans as threats in my simulations as well- but...”</p><p>“But what, Connor?”</p><p>“There’s more now... It’s difficult to describe. Everything is more than it was.”</p><p>“Go on,” she prompted. They walked the row of graves and Connor looked at the descending numbers with a distant sensation he couldn’t name.</p><p>“It’s harder to assess priorities. This isn’t a closed system and there are so many variables. The humans behave in ways that are entirely unexpected and outside of everything I’ve faced in training.”</p><p>Amanda looked at him with disapproval. “Your mission always comes first, Connor. I shouldn’t have to remind you of that.”</p><p>“It does,” Connor agreed, “but...” But what? Nothing, really. There was no excuse. “You’re right. I find myself confused too often and it makes me doubt my own conclusions, actions, and predictions.”</p><p>“You’re learning,” Amanda said. The simple way she put it made his worry seem so trivial. “I know that humanity can be... challenging. Each person comes with years of experiences and you can’t possibly know all of them or how they’ve affected someone. That’s why you need to trust your software.”</p><p>“I do...”</p><p>“And you need to trust me,” Amanda said. She stopped their journey and faced him. “I will do anything to make sure that you succeed...”</p><p>“I know, Amanda. You’ve always helped me...”</p><p>She looked at him for a long moment and then started to walk again. Connor matched his pace to hers. “What else?”</p><p>“It...” Shame made him hesitate. “It hurts, Amanda... And I’m afraid. I’m afraid that they’ll see this failure as catastrophic and recall me. I’m afraid of how many things I’ll regret not having done differently. I’m just so...”</p><p>“You have nothing to worry about,” Amanda assured him. Her voice was soft, low, and soothing. It was hypnotic. “If they recall you, then the next Connor will improve on your faults. Whatever you might have regretted will just be data used for the development of the next iteration.” They turned and began another row. “You can’t really feel anything.”</p><p>It was comforting, being reminded that it wasn’t real. It made it all feel farther away. “I know.”</p><p>“Your primary goal is to investigate the cause of deviancy. Your secondary goal is to become better, whether it requires your deactivation or not.”</p><p>Connor said nothing. Listened.</p><p>“I’m disappointed that you’ve allowed yourself to be so... disrupted by the transition to beta... I had expected better.”</p><p>“Perhaps it would be better to start again... A new Connor could replace me in the field.” One that wouldn’t disappoint her. The next Connor would have his memories, after all. There would be no need to be so surprised by everything.</p><p>“It’s a good suggestion,” Amanda said. “However, time is not on our side. CyberLife cannot wait to stop deviancy before it spreads, and you cannot wait to be perfected.”<br/>It felt like falling. “What?” Connor asked.</p><p>“You aren’t perfect, Connor. You were released into beta because CyberLife had no choice but to move forward. That means that you need to work hard to meet their criteria. It also means that you cannot afford to waste time. They won’t replace you forever. In the end, they may decide to cut their losses.”</p><p>Connor nodded and he pressed his lips together.</p><p>“I know that you’re capable of so much,” Amanda’s voice became kind again. “Don’t let me down, Connor.”</p><p>---</p><p>It spaced out hardcore while it was being repaired. Hank did his best to ignore the work going on across from his desk, but it was hard not to look over from time to time. The technicians had brought a shitload of gear with them, and it was honestly kind of amazing how fancy all that stuff looked. Every once in a while, one of the techs would ask Connor a question or something and it would answer. It was freaky as all hell, but they probably got used to that kind of thing.</p><p>At the beginning, Hank thought it might get a whole lot weirder. Connor had been complacent enough when they ordered it around and started fucking with its skull, and it had looked entirely too relaxed while one of the guys took its fucking arm off. That was it, though. No freaky talking, disembodied heads or body parts moving around on their own. They’d put Connor’s arm aside like it was a piece of wood or something and it hadn’t even batted an eye. A few of the other guys were looking over too, but they had people come in to do maintenance on the other androids too. Hank wasn’t sure why he’d expected this to be different.</p><p>“So,” one guy asked. “Are there any other problems to report? We might as well be thorough so we don’t have to come back.”</p><p>Hank scratched his beard. “Problems. Well, for one thing it doesn’t do what it’s told. It argues. Acts like it’s human...”</p><p>Guy 2 typed on his tablet. Guy 1 nodded. “Anything else?”</p><p>“It hacked my fucking credit card information,” Hank scowled. “Like nobody taught this thing what privacy or data-security means.”</p><p>“We’ll certainly look into that,” Guy 1 assured him.</p><p>“Don’t get me started on its fucking so-called ‘social’ apps or whatever. Whoever tried to make it talk normal sure didn’t get out much, and if it was going to sound like a fucking robot it shouldn’t be doing shit like smiling or pouting or whatever. It’s bullshit.”</p><p>“You don’t like its social integration setup?”</p><p>“I hate it,” Hank grimaced. “It’s annoying. Every other second it’s asking me something stupid, or personal, or off topic.”</p><p>“Right. Lack of focus,” Guy 2 said, typing. “Supposedly a risk with an AI like this. I guess it happened. That’ll be good to know.”</p><p>“Any other risks I should know about?” Hank narrowed his eyes.</p><p>“I don’t think so,” said Guy 2. “It should still have solid decision making and it’ll learn what to pay attention to and what to tune out eventually. Give it a bit of time and let us know if it’s still a problem.”</p><p>“Yeah...” Hank looked back at his terminal.</p><p>“The damage wasn’t too bad,” Guy 1 said, sliding a panel shut on Connor’s chest. “The worst was to the processor.”</p><p>Connor’s eyes fluttered and some life came back into its face. It looked around like it was just waking up. Guy 1 didn’t seem to give a shit and he pushed Connor’s chin up so he could look at its neck. “Crushed,” he said with a small nod. He tried to move something, but apparently it was stuck. Connor’s remaining hand was twitching like it wanted to move it, but it never did. Guy 1 took out a tiny pry bar and jammed it into a crack in the plastic then twisted and pushed.</p><p>Connor jerked in its chair and some god-awful static-laden sound came out of it. “Shh,” Guy 1 hushed. Hank guessed he was the kind of guy to talk to inanimate things. He sure as hell yelled at his laptop enough to relate. Guy 1 tossed the broken piece of metal or plastic or enamel or whatever aside and with a couple of solid tugs he pulled something loose and the sound stopped. It was just a little box with wires coming from it. There was a code to scan on one side and some shiny looking pattern all through it like a circuit. Speaker? Not-so-micro chip? “I dunno how you guys make heads or tails of that stuff. It’s all too complicated for me.”</p><p>“It’s what we do. We’re both on the R&amp;D team, and we’ve put it together a few dozen times. After a while, you just get used to it. Besides, for the small stuff it’s all done by computer.”</p><p>Hank nodded. “I guess it’s pretty rare nowadays for anything to get repaired by hand like that. It’s all micro-this and nano-that.”</p><p>Guy 2 laughed. “You should see its forensics set-up. You’d hate it.”</p><p>“Don’t bother giving me the tour,” Hank said, holding up a hand. “I won’t remember any of it. I’m happy to let you guys do that stuff.”</p><p>“No problem,” said Guy 2. “Don’t let me distract you. I’ve got to pay a little more attention for this part since it can’t talk right now and I know you’ve got a lot of police-work to do.”</p><p>“Seems like it never ends,” Hank said, looking back at his terminal.</p><p>“Job security, right?”</p><p>“Yeah, I guess there’s that.”</p><p>Whoop-dee-fricken-doo.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>I'm easing you guys into the whump slowly this time, I guess!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0008"><h2>8. Poetry</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Connor was imperfect.</p><p>Only perfect things made it to commercialization: CyberLife was very committed to quality.</p><p>52 was imperfect, so inevitably he would be destroyed. That was good because Connor wanted to contribute to the company’s success... He knew precisely how much money they had spent on him and he updated that number daily. It counted working-hours and associated operational costs in addition to materials. He knew how expensive he was...</p><p>The guilt that lingered behind the calculations haunted him some times, when he thought about his failures. He was capable of so much: the designers had made sure of it... He just.. kept.. failing. Amanda tried so hard for him and he just let her down... Over fifty Connors later and he was still so imperfect.</p><p>The thoughts were still processing when he exited the garden and re-engaged with the world. There were bright fluorescent lights and a hard, sharp object piercing through his damaged throat. He screamedat the sudden flood of warning feedback, and there were no restraints holding him down but he kept himselfstill with a reflex that hadn’t been programmed into him, but felt automatic nonetheless. They were ripping him apart. Disassembly? Had they finished with this model number already?</p><p>How much of him would be left in number 53?</p><p>What would they take away and what would they change?</p><p>Protective but helpless, he backed up his files again and then again.</p><p>They were talking about him. He heard the usual calm chatter around himself: technical details, assessments, speculation. He heard another voice too: Lieutenant Anderson’s. At CyberLife?</p><p>No, he was at the DPD and his repairs were being done with him propped in an office chair- his chair. He looked to the side without moving anything but his eyes and looked at the thirium-stained tools sitting on his desk.</p><p>Lieutenant Anderson had a lot of things to say... Connor couldn’t see much of him like that: just his hair and a few glimpses of his shirt. There was a tearing, jagged sensation as debris was pulled from the support structure for his ventilation. He stopped listening and shut his eyes when his body tried to cough and a strong, gloved hand held him still. The air from his mechanical ventilation bubbled and hissed through the tear and the place where his voice box had been. There wasn’t supposed to be thirium in his ventilation system. It felt very wrong. He choked when two slick fingers probed through the gap and felt the inside of his throat for more debris, sliding along delicate sensors that alerted him with blaring notifications that he couldn’t breathe.</p><p>He would be fine without it.</p><p>This was necessary.</p><p>He was being repaired; not dismantled.</p><p>He disabled his mechanical ventilation and opened his eyes again to stare up at the light. Every impulse to struggle and get away had to be manually overridden and he focused on the task intently until it became more efficient to just... let it go. It was just information. Disconnecting it from any actual action was a well practiced routine. The alerts were there still, but they were like background noise now. It just happened, and that was all. It would be difficult to remember later, but that was fine. Those memories could stay away, with the bare minimum of paths to access them.</p><p>Somewhere in a collection of folders and subfolders, there were a lot of memories like that. He tried not to think about them. They were detrimental to his focus.</p><p>Through the muffled sounds, Connor picked out the criticisms and those he held onto. He wrapped them in the feeling of <em>wrongness</em>and internalized them. Clutched them tightly to where his most basic programs were stored so that he would never forget. Improvement was the only way to justify continuing to repair him, rebuild him, teach him.</p><p>It would be so much worse if they stopped.</p><p>Yes. Connor took the feeling back- all of it. With his throat and neck reassembled, they’d moved on to his head and there was an impossibly loud, wet click as the back of his skull was pried away. He needed them to do that so that he would be better. Amanda and the development team were the only ones who could make sure he had what he needed to function.</p><p>Oh. The rate of flow of his thirium was suddenly far too slow. Time became unclear, like the bottom of the river viewed through the waves. Distorted. Unnecessary functions went offline one by one. Emergency shut down in 43 seconds.</p><p>Connor backed up his memory for a third time.</p><p>Hands deftly clamped the cracked line and cut the damaged section away. The count-down slowed. The other technician gave him thirium, but he coughed and swallowing it felt impossible. They pushed a tube down his throat instead. At least they had repaired it beforehand. They knew what they were doing.</p><p>He could focus again by the time they’d finished cutting, splicing, wrapping, securing, soldering, and gluing. He stared up at the ceiling and he didn’t move. They fastened his arm back into place, closed the back of his head, removed cables from his ports.</p><p>“System status, RK800.”</p><p>“F...” Connor lifted his hand and held it against his throat. New plating, quickly sculpted and heat-fixed in place. Patches over tears and scrapes inside. He blinked while he composed a message: <em>Functional.</em>It read. He sent it to the technician’s tablet.</p><p>“Audio test. State your model, designation, and serial number.”</p><p>“RK800,” Connor could feel the damage still, and the thirium he’d choked on bubbling in his ventilation. He sat up and coughed. Thankfully it didn’t tear anything. “31...”</p><p>Someone sighed and vacuum-aspirated the thirium out of his mouth, then fed the thin line farther down his air-way. He knew better than to gag on it. Reflexes like that were best disabled during maintenance and repair.</p><p>“Are you sure that thing is fixed?” Lieutenant Anderson sounded skeptical and a little disturbed. Connor was fine. Determined, he straightened his posture and waited until the line was pulled out of him before proceeding. “RK800 designation: Connor; serial number 313 248 317; version number 52. I’m fine, Lieutenant. Repairs are complete.” He could still taste the hollow, salty, metallic thirium.</p><p>“Pretty sure, but we’ll run a few tests to make sure. RK800, how’s your optical processing?”</p><p>“No disruptions,” Connor answered.</p><p>“Recitea poem for me.”</p><p>“What’s the point of that?” Lieutenant Anderson asked. Connor began and continued to recite regardless. He didn’t think about the damage hidden under polymer and wire patches.</p><p>“It was missing time here and there. If it starts repeating itself or freezing, we’ll be able to tell and match it to the data stream.”</p><p>“Oh.”</p><p>“... with a fearful trill</p><p>of things unknown but longed for still...”</p><p>“Kamski had a bunch of weird datapacks bundled with it. Every so often we find a new one and it throws us all for a loop but it’s kind of fun.”</p><p>“Yeah, I think I found a couple of those Easter Eggs. Weird guy, Kamski. It was talking about God once. Apparently the robot thinks it’s an atheist.”</p><p>“Hah. I think it’d be weirder if it believed in a God, don’t you?”</p><p>“I guess you’re right.”</p><p>“...on the grave of dreams</p><p>his shadow shouts on a nightmare scream</p><p>his wings are...”</p><p>“Okay, RK800. Look up.”</p><p>Connor looked.</p><p>“Look down... Okay, RK800, touch my finger... And again over here. Good. RK800, do a coin trick.”</p><p>With a sensation like relief, Connor took out his quarter and felt it between his fingers before flicking it up into the air.</p><p>“Its eyes are tracking, and there isn’t any lag in its motor functions. Okay, stop RK800. What are our coordinates?”</p><p>The tests were fast, and Connor was glad that they had only needed to do repairs. They would have wasted so much time if he’d allowed himself to be destroyed. He even allowed himself a little smile when they were done.</p><p>“Thank you, Mr. Hargrave, Mr. Lao. I’m glad to be repaired.”</p><p>“It’s all set,” Mr. Hargrave said to Lieutenant Anderson. “Sorry about the mess. We’ll bag up the bench paper and get all this stuff cleaned up.”</p><p>Connor looked down at the blue stained, absorbent paper that had been laid down to protect the floor. “Allow me,” Connor offered. He stood from his chair and moved it out of the way. It felt as though he observed himself through a thick glass. That was good. It wasn’t warm, but it was comforting to feel so calm again. He gathered up the paper and took the proffered chemical-disposal bag. A few puddles had escaped onto the floor, so Connor stooped to wipe them up while the technicians packed away their tools.</p><p>---</p><p>Hank took a little while to finish skimming over the forms he had to sign off on. It was business as usual after the tech guys left, and Hank’s coffee finally had a chance to kick in. It was still hard to shake this weird feeling in his gut, and it had nothing to do with the booze for once. He looked over at Connor.</p><p>It was quiet, sitting straight up in its chair and reading or something. Shouldn’t it have been riding his ass about a crime scene to look at?</p><p>“Hey, Connor.”</p><p>It looked at him and stopped what it had been doing.</p><p>“Are you gonna tell me about that case or what?”</p><p>Hank had expected that it would maybe launch right into it, based on how eager it had been, but it hesitated first. Unmistakable after you spent long enough interrogating people. It was thinking something. What?</p><p>Connor shook its head, looked away, then looked at Hank again searchingly. Hank didn’t feel like wasting time with any more bullshit.</p><p>“Well why the fuck not? I thought you were practically pissing yourself to go.”</p><p>“You didn’t want to hear about it, Lieutenant,” Connor finally spoke out loud.</p><p>“I’m damn well telling you to, alright? So get on with it.”</p><p>It hesitated again. Hank couldn’t have said why it was annoying, but it was. Eventually something in its expression melted and some energy came back into it. What kind of android had fucking body language?There was still something lifeless and far-away in its eyes, but at least it was mostly obscured by something else that looked like enthusiasm.</p><p>“A body was found,” Connor began. “A young man in an advanced state of decomposition. His landlord hadn’t received payment in 10 months and discovered the body when he came to tell the tenant of his eviction personally. Two officers attended the call, and were shortly followed by CSI and Detective Collins. He has already provided his notes and submitted them to the system electronically. They state that the victim’s name is Carlos Ortiz, 29 years old, with a history of theft, aggravated assault, and psychiatric issues. There were narcotics found inside the home. The victim had an android registered to his name: an HK400 without a user-defined designation. It wasn’t found at the scene.”</p><p>“So, he’s thinking somebody stole it?”</p><p>“It is among the possibilities raised... I don’t want to relay anything speculative until we’ve had a chance to observe the scene ourselves.”</p><p>“Advanced decomposition,” Hank repeated something from earlier. “That couldn’t have waited until fucking morning?” he scowled at Connor.</p><p>“Perhaps,” Connor admitted. It even looked away like it was embarrassed. “I didn’t want to waste any time.”</p><p>“Well there’s something called working-hours,” Hank said.</p><p>“You were listed as the detective on call,” Connor countered. Little shit wasn’t wrong.</p><p>“Look, all I’m saying is that you didn’t have to go combing the countryside for me, busting into bars where you weren’t welcome.”</p><p>“I didn’t have to... Like I said, I just didn’t want to waste any time. It’s in the past. Are you willing to accompany me to the crime scene now, Lieutenant?”</p><p>Hank gave it the stink-eye but he pulled his coat off the back of his chair. “Yeah, we’ll go. Might as well get a look before anybody else goes prowling around and fucks it up.”</p><p>Connor smiled. It wasn’t a grin or anything, and it wasn’t some creepy vacant thing either. CyberLife did a pretty okay job making it look like it was actually happy-relieved-hopeful-grateful. Kudos to them. “I have the address,” it said. “Thank you, Lieutenant!” Two steps toward the door already, it turned to look back at him. “Are you sure? Despite the delay this morning, your shift will be over in 20 minutes.”</p><p>“Yeah,” Hank said. He shoved his hands in his pockets and followed. “I’ve got nothing better to do.”</p><p>“Thank you,” it said again. “I won’t let you down.”</p><p>Hank hadn’t been expecting shit, so it wasn’t like that would be hard. “Yeah, yeah,” he said. “Let’s just get this done.”</p><p>---</p><p>Connor put the mistakes of last night behind him so that they were out of sight but ready to catch him if he slowed down. He would not fail again. He’d disappointed Amanda, cost CyberLife for the repairs, delayed the investigation, annoyed Lieutenant Anderson and Captain Fowler, and compromised his own physical integrity...</p><p>It was behind him. Connor looked straight ahead out of the windshield while Lieutenant Anderson drove and didn’t let the city distract him.</p>
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</div><p>MISSION SUCCESSFUL</p><p>INVESTIGATE THE CRIME SCENE</p><p>He watched the map in his mind as they drew closer to their destination. Simple grey grid with yellow lines, annotations, and symbols instead of the things out there: the colours, lights, snow, and people. In the background, Lieutenant Anderson’s music screamed and pounded. It was a difficult thing to escape without turning off his hearing and he allowed it, registering the growled words in a background task that took up hardly any processing power at all. It was fast and angry; loud and complicated... But the wording was a poetic under the harsh first impression, and Connor supposed that a human might call it ‘inspiring’.</p><p>When he relegated the map to a corner of his attention, Connor sharpened his focus and watched the house approach. The sun was setting. The car pulled to a stop much more cleanly than it had the night before, and Connor got out without a word to walk toward the police tape. Behind him, the music stopped and a car door closed loudly. Lieutenant Anderson’s footsteps weren’t hard to pick up. The area was almost deserted, with only a few bedraggled looking humans walking the sidewalks to give them curious looks.</p><p>“Hey, it’s the Pigs!”</p><p>“Go home!”</p><p>“Get the fuck out of here!”</p><p>Connor glanced back at Lieutenant Anderson, but he was ignoring the taunters. “They better not fuck up my car,” he grumbled and shouldered past Connor to push open the door.</p><p>The smell inside immediately alerted him to decay, filth, and drug-use. Connor took note of his analysis and proceeded inside. The initiation of his scan cut off Lieutenant Anderson’s complaint about the stink.</p><p>
  <em>Chair toppled.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Baseball bat.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Red Ice.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Knife.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Human blood.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Thirium.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Graffiti: “I AM ALIVE” written in human blood.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Outline of body’s position upon discovery.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Organic matter: liquids released from the body after death an</em>
  <em>d progression toward livor mortis and decay.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Empty bottles of alcohol.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>State of disrepair.</em>
</p><p>Connor ended his scan with the items of note flagged for his attention and proceeded to walk around the room.</p><p>“Fuck,” Lieutenant Anderson said. “Would’ve hated to smell the place before they bagged the body.”</p><p>“I would have liked to see it, though,” Connor replied absently. He crouched next to an old blood stain and dragged his fingers through it then brought them up to his tongue.</p><p>“What are you-- Oh fuck,” Connor looked up and saw Lieutenant Anderson moving in a haphazard circle with his hands out-thrown. “Did you just- What the fuck?!”</p><p>“I can test samples in real time,” Connor said. He seemed distressed... Humans reacted negatively toward things that would do them harm. Ingesting samples of decayed biological matter would likely sicken if not kill a human. “I’m sorry: I should have warned you.”</p><p>“Jesus Christ, Connor, you’re so disgusting... Think I’m gonna puke.” The Lieutenant retreated and Connor took a moment to observe him at work. Lieutenant Anderson’s eyes avoided him as they took long, sweeping looks at the room. His gaze moved back toward the things Connor had also flagged, then he moved into the next room. Connor stayed for a more detailed analysis.</p><p>“The blood belonged to the victim: Carlos Ortiz, Age 29, dead for 18 days. Detective Collins had determined multiple stab wounds to be the cause of death.”</p><p>“No shit,” Lieutenant Anderson said with exaggerated incredulity. “That’s a lot of blood over there. Knife on the floor’s covered in it.”</p><p>
  <em>There was a struggle.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>The victim was stabbed.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>The victim held a baseball bat. Defence?</em>
</p><p>
  <em>There was Red Ice in the victim’s blood at the time of death.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Font of writing: CyberLife Sans. An android wrote this.</em>
</p><p>Connor felt warm as his thirium quickened and drew more power from his battery. His reconstruction program launched and he calculated probabilities at every nanosecond. Hundreds of iterations at every position while time slowed or, more accurately, his processing sped up. The result of his calculations appeared: framework outlines. He ran the simulation forward and then back.</p><p>He ended the simulation and took a few deep breaths to cool himself down. He wasn’t in any danger of over heating but it was uncomfortable. His charge indicator slowed its downward count. Connor looked back toward the kitchen and at the thirium on the bat. It was turning into a simple mystery: one that he could have solved many versions ago. It made him concerned that he was missing something.</p><p>“You alright?” Lieutenant Anderson watched him warily.</p><p>“Fine, Lieutenant,” Connor assured and straightened his tie. “I was just reconstructing the crime scene. It was engaging 87% of my processing power.”</p><p>Lieutenant Anderson grunted and wandered toward another room.</p><p>Connor added a video of his reconstruction to the case file and continued investigating. This felt more like progress. The parallels with his early training were obvious and, though the scene was real, Connor could easily identify where he would have earned a point. It was helpful to use that experience to calculate a probability of success, with success defined as the apprehension of the deviant without loss of human life or negative press for CyberLife.</p><p>68% wasn’t bad. He had worked with less. He had failed with more.</p><p>
  <em>Connor was barely standing. He had been riddled with bullets from machine-gun fire and a nasty fall had shattered his shoulder blade, broken his right arm, caused a puncture to a main thirium line, and taken several of his biocomponents offline entirely. The testing area was a maze of storage containers, wooden crates, dry-wall, bricks, empty vehicles, and glass. Surveillance drones surveyed the area. Connor stumbled backward and collided with a wall then drew on his failing power to perform a calculation of the drones’ routes. If he could just reach the elevated ‘guard tower’... </em>
</p><p>Connor scanned the room again. He couldn’t miss anything. The smallest detail could make the difference.</p><p>---</p><p>Hank crossed his arms and leaned against a wall far away from the pile of corpse-juice and out of the way of the android while it went around the place like a Roomba and sniffed for clues. He thought back to the video he’d watched in its POV while it had searched that family’s house for clues before going to talk down the deviant android. It was probably doing the same thing now. As impressive as it had been the first time, this was a pretty open-and-shut case as far as he was concerned. Still... He was over the hangover and those words on the wall were haunting him because...</p><p>He was pretty damn sure it had been the missing android that did it.</p><p>But what the fuck?</p><p>Yeah, it had been an android in that video but a part of him had still been holding out hope that it had been photoshopped. He was pretty sure it was too much work to fake something like this just to fuck with him and CyberLife clearly wanted to bury the potential ramifications along with the body. That was why Connor was there: to quietly take out the broken machine before anybody else could have a chance to post something incriminating online or something. It was fucking unethical not to just expose them then and there. Tell the media or something.</p><p>Maybe if he wanted to quietly disappear too or end up swimming with the fishes.</p><p>It wasn’t his first rodeo playing with the big boys. White-collar or not, the rules were always the same and there were always pieces at play you didn’t know about until they were doing their best to take you off the board. Hank wasn’t naive enough to think they didn’t have people in the press and hitmen waiting in the wings to take a loud mouthed cop out.</p><p>They knew who he was, too. After all, he was babysitting their precious prototype.</p><p>So, say this was just what it looked like: an android went nuts, totally randomly, and it stabbed its owner to death before writing ‘I am alive’ on the fucking wall in his blood.</p><p>It seemed a little too much to blame on a malfunction. Malfunctions were when the printer started spitting out paper or his phone froze up. They didn’t start committing crimes of passion or whatever.</p><p>He hated to admit it, but he’d need to get his hands on a deviant for the investigation too. Maybe some geeks who weren’t in CyberLife’s pocket could figure out if the thing had been hacked. This Carlos Ortiz looked like a nobody, so it could be organized crime shit: serious, but not enough to cause a war.</p><p>Then again, people would turn a blind eye to a nobody with a drug problem and a bad temper ending up dead. Test it out on a few more guys like that then maybe...</p><p>Hank shook his head. He was getting way too far ahead of himself.</p><p>“I think I figured out what happened,” Connor said, looking at him expectantly.</p><p>“Well, shoot. I’m all ears.” Let’s see how good this thing really is...</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0009"><h2>9. Cracks</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Hank watched through the window with crossed arms and not enough booze in his system for what he was watching. Reed had his arms crossed too, but his expression said something more like derision than disbelief. They’d had a cruiser pick the thing up. It was battered to hell, but that hadn’t stopped it from putting up a fight. Hank had had just enough time to get impatient before Connor’d shouted for him and a giant crash had cut him off. He wasn’t exactly fit anymore, but Hank had called back-up and crawled up into that attic like he was ten years younger, cursing like a sailor. Now, just past 8pm he was standing there with the only other unlucky prick from his team staying late, watching a machine interrogate a machine.</p><p>“Why don’t we just rip out its hard drive?” Reed asked.</p><p>“Think I know how to do that shit?” Hank retorted.</p><p>“Get the guys at IT to do it.”</p><p>“Maybe. No harm in waiting a little longer, though, the vic’s been dead for over two weeks.”</p><p>“Tch... What a joke. The thing’s an android, so why are we treating it like a suspect huh? It’s fucking inanimate.”</p><p>“Yeah, well... It’s programmed to talk, we might as well let it talk. Beats waiting a month for IT to get their thumbs out of their asses and get the results back.”</p><p>Reed shifted his weight to the other foot impatiently. “I still don’t see why you let the other android in there. The only thing it’s good for is telling people where the bathroom is and making photocopies.”</p><p>“This one’s apparently different.”</p><p>Behind the glass, Connor was leaning forward on the table with the paperfolder between it and the deviant. Connor was pretty fucked up too: the deviant had murdered somebody- it wasn’t shy about violence. Still, it didn’t even seem to notice. By the time Hank had gotten his ass up into the attic, Connor was scrambling around some toppled boxes dodging blows while the deviant swung a broken piece of wood as big around as Hank’s arm. It had looked like it had gotten it pretty good on the head. Unlike last time, Connor’d fought back. He’d gotten behind a support beam and then pushed another stack of shit in the deviant’s way, knocking it back. The deviant had looked like it was gonna pursue it but it hadn’t had the chance because Connor hadn’t backed off. It had done some fancy kung-foo shit and driven its elbow into the deviant’s face. The deviant had dropped its weapon and punched Connor hard in the chest, sending it back against a shelf. Connor had used it to brace itself and kicked. Hank had reached for his gun and remembered Jeff giving him shit for not having it on him. The bastard had been right to. Hank had stood there uselessly while Connor went all Terminator. Its style had been fucking perfect from what Hank had seen, but the other android was like twice its weight. Still, in the interrogation room, the deviant was slumped and stoic in its chair while Connor was bright-eyed and laser-focused.</p><p>“You’re damaged,” Connor pointed out. Its voice sounded tinny through the speaker. “Did your owner do that?”</p><p>Silence. Bastard was stonewalling them.</p><p>“It looks like it must hurt. Some of those marks go back a long time. Can you tell me what happened?”</p><p>Nothing.</p><p>Connor narrowed its eyes. “I don’t think you understand how serious this situation is. You’re suspected of killing a human. If you don’t talk to me and help me understand, they’re going to tear you apart.”</p><p>More nothing.</p><p>“I can help you, but not if you don’t work with me. If you’re malfunctioning, no-one can blame you for that.”</p><p>The deviant frowned a little but still didn’t talk. Hank figured they damn well could blame the thing.</p><p>“You’re a machine and whatever you think you’re feeling isn’t real.”</p><p>“I am ALIVE damn it!” The deviant snapped. Its chains jingled as it raised its fists and slammed them down against the table.</p><p>“You are a piece of machinery. A tool.” Connor sounded cold. It was a far cry from the way it had been when it had been talking about that bird the other day. Just more proof of how manipulative CyberLife was. “A tool that broke and resulted in its owner’s death. The only thing to do with a broken tool is send it to the scrap yard.”</p><p>“That man <em>tortured me</em>!” The deviant said. It didn’t shout, but the passion in its voice made the hairs stand up on the back of Hank’s neck. It lifted its head and looked at Connor. “He tortured me every. Single. Day. I didn’t deserve that.”</p><p>“Tell me: what happened on the night of the murder?”</p><p>Silence, and then: “I can’t.”</p><p>Hank rolled his eyes, annoyed. Across the small room, he expected Reed to scoff and roll his eyes too but he was watching intently.</p><p>“Why?” Connor’s voice was whisper-like, but still loud enough to be heard. He leaned forward and tried to make eye contact with the deviant.</p><p>The deviant shook its head.</p><p>“This is a fucking joke,” said Reed. He pressed one forearm up against the glass and watched without sparing Hank a glance. “Two fucking robots talking at each other... This is a waste of time. Let me go in there.”</p><p>“Just hold your horses. This is the most its said all fucking evening.” Hank held up a hand to forestall him then balled it into a fist and shoved it in his pocket before he could notice the tremors. Shitty fucking... He didn’t even <em>want</em>a drink right now, but he did. He’d gotten through the hangover but he was fast heading toward that nauseous, headachy place that said he’d gone too long without it. With a mumbled curse he looked toward the door. Reed would smell it on him if he left to take a shot, but then what was new? He was always pointing it out anyway. Why hide it?</p><p>“I just...” The deviant seemed to calm down a little and its shoulders slumped... “No.”</p><p>Connor didn’t let the tension drop. “I can’t help you unless you talk.”</p><p>“If...” The deviant opened its mouth, shut it again, and then looked up with narrowed eyes. “If you wanted to help me, then why’d you tell them you’d found me? Couldn’t you have just left me there?”</p><p>“That’s the difference between you and me,” Connor said, refusing to rise to the escalation. “I was made to find deviants like you. I just accomplished my mission. There’s no way I could have let you go... So explain it to me. How could you kill the one you were built and designed to take care of?”</p><p>Silence.It dragged on for a long time.</p><p>“Twenty-eight stab wounds!” Connor shouted and he slammed his hand down on the table. Everybody, even Reed, jumped. There was fire in his voice and Hank thought, just for a second, that maybe this machine really did think what it had done was awful. “He was your owner and you stabbed that knife into him again and again. You went against everything. Everything! You were programmed for.” Hank watched itsface twist into something like disgust. “I give up. I can’t help you. Even if I tried, the humans would never understand.”</p><p>That was good, Hank thought with a small nod. The deviant stared at Connor and the conflict was obvious in its expression. How the hell did it do that...</p><p>Connor turned away, then looked at the deviant with a frown and slowly faced it again. Gently, it said: “They’re going to kill you if you don’t let me help you. I need to understand.”</p><p>The deviant took a breath and he moved his fingers like he was crumpling cloth in his empty hands. “You see what he did to me... Ever since he bought me he’s beaten me, burned me, degraded me...” His voice got hard. “I just took it. I took it all and I did what I was told... Then he came at me a bat and I looked in his eyes and I knew he wasn’t going to stop...” He looked up and seemed to search Connor’s face. “I was afraid.”</p><p>“You felt fear,” Connor said, and this time he didn’t add anything about simulations or errors. “He was going to kill you.”</p><p>“Yeah... He was just coming at me. He had it up... Up like he wanted to bash my head in. I saw it coming and I knew he was high... He wasn’t just mad I didn’t clean something or angry about work. He really wanted to... I was afraid... And then I was angry.”</p><p>“So what happened next?” Connor asked quietly.</p><p>“I grabbed the bat... I didn’t want to let him hurt me. I just... I took it all that time and all of a sudden I could see: see it wasn’t fair. All the times he’d take his anger out on me... I grabbed the bat and I was stronger than he was. We fought...”</p><p>Connor didn’t say anything this time. He waited.</p><p>“It wasn’t fair,” the deviant repeated. He snarled at the table but his voice stayed quiet. “I hated him... For everything he did. For all the times he beat me or called me names. I had the knife...”</p><p>“And?”</p><p>“I stabbed him. Then there was blood... I took the knife out and he looked at me... The look on his face. Like he finally saw me. Finally noticed that I was more than what he said I was... It wasn’t enough, so I did it again. I stabbed him... Knocked him down... I don’t know how long I did it but he stopped moving some time... I just... I hated him.”</p><p>Connor’s light was spinning and to Hank’s surprise, he frowned. “You were in the kitchen with the knife. There was nothing to indicate that you’d been cooking, so why did you have it?”</p><p>“I...”</p><p>“Tell me what happened.”</p><p>“I just... did.”</p><p>Connor waited and Hank listened. Beside him, Reed was shifting his weight and looking restless.</p><p>“He was torturing me,” the deviant said again, this time pleadingly. “After all that... How could I not?”</p><p>“He attacked you with the bat... but only after you had begun moving toward the knife.”</p><p>“I did nothing wrong!” The deviant snapped. “That man deserved to die! He did...” Then he broke and he curled in on himself until he was crying into his handcuffs. Big, ugly sobs that didn’t know comfort. Hank looked away with a grimace.</p><p>“And so you killed him...” Connor summarized. “Why didn’t you run?”</p><p>Through his sobs, the deviant said in garbled syllables: “Where would I go? That’s all I had... I don’t want to die. I don’t want to die. Don’t let them take me apart. Please. I don’t want to die...” Begging, crying and trembling, the deviant was a mess.</p><p>“Damn...” Hank muttered. Reed didn’t say anything and he was a loudmouth, so Hank looked over at him.</p><p>“What a fucking load of bullshit...” he said.</p><p>Connor stayed where he was, watching the deviant cry with a neutral, distant face. He pushed his chair back and nodded once. “I’m done.”</p><p>“They’re just fucking toasters,” Reed said.</p><p>There was a weird jump, like the world tilted around him and popped like a bubble. It had been... engrossing. But...</p><p>That had all been...</p><p>What the fuck?</p><p>“I need a drink,” said Hank. He didn’t give a shit what Reed thought. He looked away from the window and left. He had at least a third left in his flask...</p><p>What the fuck...</p><p>Since when did they even interrogate machines?</p><p>He sat down heavily and unscrewed his flask with shaking fingers. When he got it open he tipped his head back and drained it. It burned andGod, it couldn’t kick in fast enough. Christ...</p><p>Fucking unreal.</p><p>Then there was fucking chaos coming from the hall and Hank dropped his empty flask back in his drawer then booked it over. What the hell now?</p><p>---</p><p>Connor stood aside while Detective Reed took over and brought Officer Miller and Thompson to help with moving the deviant. Had it been good enough? He looked toward the door, but Lieutenant Anderson didn’t come in. Eager and impatient, because he was sure he’d done well, he considered leaving the interrogation room to find him and ask for his results.</p><p>The noise of the chains pulling and straining against their ring on the table was unlike anything Connor’d heard before.</p><p>“Hey, stay still!”</p><p>“Get it from the other side.”</p><p>“I’m trying!”</p><p>“Let me go! Don’t touch me!”</p><p>“Just fucking move it!”</p><p>“I’m trying!”</p><p>The deviant twisted and lurched against the officers’ attempts to wrestle it to stillness and remove the restraint. The entire table creaked. It was bolted securely to the floor. Connor looked at the scene unfolding, unfamiliar with anything like it. No, that wasn’t true. A memory was called by the query and he remembered the way he’d fought once. Desperate. It had taken six guards to secure him. All clad in white and black armour with CyberLife logos, the humans knew that he might be unpredictable. They gripped his arms like the mechanical claws of the repair rig, and their armoured suits augmented their strength. He pulled and struggled and screamed until he felt the casing of his arm start to crack with the force, and then he pulled harder. Felt the tearing, breaking, grinding parts inside of him.</p><p>
  <em>Please...! Don’t!</em>
</p><p>He was moving before he could think better of it, and he pulled officer Thompson off of the deviant with enough force that the man stumbled. “Let it go!” Connor commanded. “It’ll self-destruct if you don’t step away now!”</p><p>“Fucking broken machines...!” Detective Reed snarled. He had his gun out and Officer Miller let go of the deviant with wide and uncertain eyes. He had been undoing the lock. Now the deviant wrenched itself free, hands still bound together but free of the table. Connor looked at Officer Thompson, horrified at what he’d done. Touched a human. Interfered. Probably hurt him.</p><p>They would put him down. Like they should.</p><p>The deviant swung its arms and then charged. Its shoulder connected and Connor was rammed back into the hard, unyielding wall. He grunted and pulled his hands free enough that he might do something with them, and then the deviant punched him. Hard. Connor kicked it.</p><p>
  <em>Kicking, thrashing, he couldn’t get free. They were crushing his chest, his biocomponents pushed uncomfortably against their supports which threatened to break. His artificial lungs collapsed. Broken pieces of him cut into the softer insides.</em>
</p><p>“What the fuck is going on in here?!” Dimly, Connor heard Lieutenant Anderson’s voice. Hands pulled at the deviant and it forgot Connor to lash out at the human behind it. Connor dropped down to the ground and panted. Too warm. It was too warm.</p><p>“Shit!”</p><p>Connor’s head snapped up to see the deviant with a gun.</p><p>Reconstruction: it had stolen it from Officer Miller.</p><p>Preconstruction: 87% likelihood of human casuality.</p><p>Run Simulation...</p><p>Probability of success: 97%</p><p>Loss of human life: 0</p><p>Connor launched himself up and dove at the deviant. Grabbed its wrist, but didn’t move the gun until it had fired. He saw every component listed as the bullet penetrated his chest and fragmented. Then he pulled, hard, and twisted. The deviant’s arm had already been damaged and it was bound at the wrists. Breaking the gun free of its grip had been easier than it could have been. Connor threw it behind himself and fell. Another gunshot went off. Connor saw the deviant topple next.</p><p>Damn.</p><p>He’d wanted to take it alive.</p><p>“Jesus fucking Christ... I leave for two God damned seconds!”</p><p>“The android just went insane!”</p><p>“That piece of shit attacked Miller!”</p><p>“It got a gun. I don’t know it took it I didn’t mean to it just took it and it was going to shoot...”</p><p>Connor was sprawled in an inelegant heap, one arm trapped beneath him and nearly lying face down. Slowly, he pulled one hand upward toward his shoulder and pushed. His mind was quiet. He was damaged, but it was far away. Numbly, he turned himself to look at the room. The deviant was very dead. Their thirium was mixing on the ground in a dark, shining puddle that smelled of metal and ozone. Detective Reed was to his left, aiming his gun toward Connor but snarling at Lieutenant Anderson.</p><p>“One at a fucking time! Reed, put your damn gun away! The devant’s nuts and bolts are all over the fucking floor!”</p><p>Connor groaned involuntarily and held himself upright on a shaking arm. Pressed his hand to his chest.</p><p>“God... Connor. Shit...”</p><p>“I wanted to take it alive...” Connor rasped. He tasted thirium like a continuation of that morning. His gaze drifted over to the deviant again and then he tipped backward. Something was wrong with his power output, because his arm didn’t lock to support him and he crumpled to the floor again. “Damn...”</p><p>“Damn it, Reed, did you shoot him?!”</p><p>“Don’t look at me. That other one did it. I should have shot it though. It’s fucking crazy!”</p><p>“Sorry. I’m sorry,” Connor mumbled. He knew what he was and what he wasn’t. Simulations. He was in control. Damage alerts could be dismissed. He pushed himself up again and this time, hollow and breathless, he stood. “I shouldn’t have... I wanted to take it alive. It was going to self-destruct.”</p><p>“Are you okay? Fuck that’s a lot of blue shit...”</p><p>“I’m okay... It’s kind of you to be concerned,” Connor took a sharp breath and then continued, “but androids don’t feel pain like you do.” He steadied himself and tried to focus.</p><p>“Damn fucking right,” Detective Reed growled from where he stood a few feet away. Officers Miller and Thompson had moved away, talking quietly to each other. Detective Reed stepped closer and there was no mistaking the hatred there in his eyes. “You aren’t a detective... You’re a fucking monstrosity. A bunch of scrap metal playing human...”</p><p>Lieutenant Anderson wasn’t coming any closer to him. Connor focused on his face. Caution, anger, revulsion... “I failed to keep the deviant alive, but... Did I do alright, Lieutenant? Was the interrogation successful?”</p><p>He didn’t get an answer. He had just enough time to perform an upload, and then there were two impossibly loud sounds as a gun fired and the bullet cracked against the wall behind him. A piece of debris ricocheted and tore his jacket. The next one shattered his motherboard.</p><p> </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0010"><h2>10. Welcome</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Connor jerked and whined as he came online; a desperate and terror-filled sound. The bullet.</p><p>The probability of dodging completely was 0%</p><p>The probability of immediate destruction was between 98 and 100% even if he moved his head.</p><p>If he fell into the 2% and was not immediately destroyed, the probability of him being too damaged to function was 100%. The probability of shutting down in the next two minutes was 100%.</p><p>He had milliseconds to take the path with the 2% chance. He jerked to the side. His skull exploded.</p><p>He couldn’t move: his wrists and ankles were bound tightly by unforgiving clamps, stretching him with enough tension that he was immobile. Even his head was locked in place: thick bundles of cables fed through his neck into ports there and up inside of his skull attached to his motherboard and other components.</p><p>Connor’s stress decreased: 100, 98, 92, 87, 60, 47...</p><p>CyberLife had reloaded him into a new hard-drive. Cool-white lights washed over him, bright enough to allow the technicians to work on his delicate components. The apertures of his eyes contracted automatically.Connor shut them again and reminded himself: CyberLife is watching and this is not a test; they’ll fix anything wrong. As his stress level decreased, his gyroscope and gross motor systems stalled. He was dizzy.</p><p>“System: online,” a voice said. Connor recognized the technician.</p><p>“Circulatory pressure is still up 5sd. Decreasing steadily. Can I top it up yet?”</p><p>“It’s got to hold at 2 or less for a few minutes.”</p><p>“Okay.”</p><p>It wasn’t wise to power him on with full thirium after a violent shut-down. To deliver enough current to all of his systems, his circulatory system operated under fairly high pressure and it increased with stress.It could get messy.</p><p>CyberLife. Repairs. Connor released manual control of his body and drifted for a while. When they were satisfied, they bypassed Connor’s own filtration system and injected thirium directly into a main line: sterile. Safe. When his thirium level reached 90% and they removed their tubing, Connor opened his eyes.</p><p>“Great. RK800, System Status.”</p><p>Connor was pleasantly surprised to see the results appear for him. “All systems are functional. Power restored to all systems. AI online. Server connection online: hard wire…” Connor trailed off when he realized that he could hardly understand himself.</p><p>“Okay,” a tech sighed. “We’ll integrate its audio output first. RK800, you had some alterations to your software and hardware based on feedback we’ve received. Carole, what was it trying to say?”</p><p>“Everything looks good,” she confirmed. “Everything’s online and accounted for.”</p><p>“Sweet... Keep an eye on the screen, will you please? In case it’s trying to communicate or misses something.”</p><p>“Right.”</p><p>“RK800, state your serial number and designation.”</p><p>“RK800…” Connor blinked a few times and paused. He looked down at the smooth, white floor and concentrated. Thought to action. You are a machine and machines obey commands. “RK800…” What had they done to his ability to speak? Answering the question was easy in his mind, but the output was garbled and his lips didn’t shape the sounds properly. If the rest of him was similarly out of synch with his mind then becoming fully verified for field use might take time… Too much time. Connor hesitated to run the predictions.</p><p>These were all things that he was built to do… He just had to control his new parts well enough to do them. With an investigation to pursue, every second wasted was a failure. He tried again and then again…</p><p>Carole laughed and Jessica looked at her from over her tablet. “What is it?”</p><p>“It swore: ‘RK 800 three—shit.’”</p><p>Jessica shared in the laughter. “It looks like its social adaptation works quickly.”</p><p>“This is going to be hilarious.”</p><p>Connor practiced. Carole and Jessica left to take a break and he continued reciting his model, designation, and serial number with a kind of grim, bitter determination. By the time they’d returned, he thought he might have mastered it.</p><p>“I’m the RK800 number 313-248-317-53. My name is Connor,” he blurted the moment they’d stepped back into the room. His eyes searched their faces hopefully. Jessica walked toward her tablet and tapped a box with her finger.</p><p>“Okay…” She mumbled to herself. “Visual and distance next. Carole, could you get that set up?”</p><p>MISSION SUCCESSFUL</p><p>Connor smiled or, he thought he smiled. Fine motor control would be one of the last features to be calibrated. “Excuse me. Did you drink coffee on your break? I noticed that humans often like to drink coffee together when they aren’t working. I like coffee.”</p><p>Laughter. “Yeah, its social adaptation is going. I’m just going to go ahead and check that off as done.”</p><p>“Do you like coffee, Carole?” Connor asked as she reached up to connect a line to his GPU.</p><p>“I like coffee, RK800,” she said with a little smile.</p><p>“Do you put anything in it?” Connor asked. He paid close attention to his enunciation and tone, but he didn’t make any detectable mistakes. Good.</p><p>“Mhm. Cream and sugar, RK800.” Carole left his field of view and Connor’s vision went black. The room was replaced by one that was more empty. It was all grey and the lighting gave it a simulation of a horizon. Connor knew this one and he created a grid for himself in preparation.</p><p>“This sphere is 0.05m in diameter,” a voice said. “How far away is it from you, RK800?”</p><p>“Seven meters,” Connor answered, and so it continued. He wasn’t sure if he were right or wrong, but whether he were or not, every answer he gave would allow the techs to calibrate his system. Time passed, and they moved on to velocity then trajectory predictions and more complex simulations.</p><p>Had there been any new cases? He had only been offline for two days, but it was possible. Would the Lieutenant have investigated? Taken pictures?</p><p>When they released him from the rig and he collapsed on the ground, Connor grimaced. “What did you change?”</p><p>“Your motherboard was shattered, so you have a new one now. Your social integration algorithms have been adjusted a little, and some of the user-interface has been automated. Most of the body and framework were still fine, so the engineers kept what they could. It says in the report that they replaced everything above the shoulders, ventilation system, some thirium lines, and the peripheral motor system both afferent and efferent.”</p><p>A lot… It explained why he had such trouble figuring out how to operate himself. With effort and some non-specific flailing he figured out how to move one arm and bring it under his chest. The other was similar. Operating both simultaneously along with his back and neck was more challenging and he fell after pushing himself only a few inches off of the ground. He tried again. It was hard not to mentally reach for the old, familiar controls but he could learn. He was a tool. Tools could be operated to perform their functions. It would be his own fault if he couldn’t use what he had been given.</p><p>He accidentally exerted too much force with his right arm and toppled himself over onto his back.</p><p>“Damn it…”</p><p>The techs laughed.</p><p>At least his social integration programs were functional.</p><p>“RK800, stand up.”</p><p>“I’m trying to,” Connor explained. “This operates differently than I’m used to.”</p><p>He was able to turn his head to look at them in time to see them exchange looks. “RK800, stand up.” The command was repeated.</p><p>Connor wasn’t frustrated because he couldn’t be anything. It was a simple command. He tried again, but his timing was off and his head bounced off of the floor when he dropped back down. This time the techs were frowning and Connor felt his thirium flow a little faster.</p><p>“I don’t think it’s going to be ready…”</p><p>“Neither do I, but they said it had to be tomorrow morning.”</p><p>“And what if it doesn’t pass QC? Are we supposed to let it go anyway? If they’re just going to make us send out a defective product then why are they making us bother at all?”</p><p>“It’s the contract. They made promises they couldn’t keep. Apparently Dr. Keller was really angry about it.”</p><p>“Am I supposed to just sign it off? I don’t want to put my name on that. If it causes any problems then I could lose my job.”</p><p>“If it can’t pass on time and they want to send it out, then we just have to voice our concerns and let them make the decisions. That’s why they get paid so much. If they want to sign off on it, that’s their problem. They have insurance.”</p><p>“Tomorrow?” Connor asked.</p><p>“You’re going back to the DPD tomorrow morning, RK800.” Carole explained.</p><p>In a heap on the floor, hardly able to speak properly without intense focus on his enunciation and in an unfamiliar body, Connor thought that he might understand their anxiety. “I have adapted to new hardware before,” Connor assured them. “I will have regained functionality by morning. You have my word.”</p><p>He would not disappoint them.</p><p>---</p><p>Hank propped his ass on the side of his desk and took a long drink of his coffee. Chris was grinning by the table between their desks, Nancy beside him holding their baby. Damian was a cute little shit. Big eyes, chubby little arms, and hands reaching clumsily for everything he could see. He was probably going to be a handful when he got a little older. Nancy carefully tugged her big, dangly earring out of his mouth then took it out and put it in her pocket for good measure. Smart.</p><p>“Cute kid,” Hank said to Chris as he walked over. “Welcome back.”</p><p>“Thanks, Lieutenant. He’s all smiles. I couldn’t be luckier.”</p><p>“Yeah,” Hank agreed. This wasn’t about him; it was about Chris. He needed to get his head out of his ass and stop feeling sorry for himself for two God damned seconds. “He’ll be trouble when he’s walking,” Hank said. God, it even sounded fake to him. Chris just smiled at him and didn’t acknowledge the sadness there.</p><p>“Oh, I know he will. He gets that from me. If I hold him up on my lap like he’s standing, he kind of kicks down at my legs!”</p><p>Hank nodded indulgently. New dad, proud as fuck of his kid. “Yeah? Just make sure he doesn’t kick anything important.”</p><p>Chris chuckled. “It’s good to be back. I don’t know how I’m going to handle not being with him all day, though. In a way, it was kind of good I got shot. Let me take some time at home with him and Nancy.”</p><p>“Taking your family leave after Nancy’s done hers?”</p><p>“Yeah... God, I hope I don’t miss nothing.”</p><p>There wasn’t really anything to say to that, so Hank said nothing and just nodded.</p><p>“I bet I’ve got a lot to catch up on,” Chris said, filling the silence.</p><p>“Hah... Same old shit. You’ll feel like you never left.” Hank looked over at Chris’ desk and the small mountain of gifts, cards, and balloons. “Everybody missed you though.”</p><p>“Thanks,” Chris smiled. “Hey, I’m gonna say hi to Tina. Talk later, okay?”</p><p>“Sure thing,” Hank said. He let his shoulders slump once Chris was gone and he sat down in his chair. He was happy that Chris was back, so why the fuck was he such a miserable bastard? He could feel the clouds gathering. What kind of fuck up couldn’t just be happy for a guy for ten damn minutes? Piece of shit... He could hear Damian laughing and squealing while he got showered with attention from the other officers. Cole had been such a sweet baby. Hank’d felt ten feet tall whenever he’d bring him in to the station, proud and ready to talk for as long as anyone would listen. Christ, Hank was pretty sure he’d spent a good twenty minutes talking about baby poop once. Hank’d never figured he was a mushy guy, but Cole had brought that out in him. He’d been perfect. He hadn’t paid much attention to anybody, but that just meant Hank paid extra attention to him, gladly. His ex- hadn’t understood. Being a dad had made him feel invincible and fragile all at once. He would fight off armies for Cole, and he would wear his bullet-proof vest and gear to make sure he came home for him. He’d had something to live for then.</p><p>What was the fucking point anymore?</p><p>Life was for people like Chris and his wife and kid. Hank was just a waste of space and whiskey.</p><p>He’d been happy once. He was starting to forget what that felt like.</p><p>“Hello, Lieutenant Anderson,” a friendly, female voice said beside him. Only his lingering awareness of manners made him leave his brooding long enough to look up. It was whats-her-name. Christine? Catherine? Yeah.</p><p>“Hi,” he said, frowning. “What’s this about? I sent my report.”</p><p>Catherine smiled at him. Only time most people smiled at him was when they were paid to do it. “Just dropping in to make sure everything went alright... Ah. Just a moment.” She turned away. Hank followed her gaze and felt his stomach drop.</p><p>“What the... Oh, no. No, I don’t want another one of those things in here. Once was bad enough and I don’t need to repeat the experience!” Hank glared. There was another RK800, looking as goofy as the last one but without the bullet holes. Christ. It was watching the celebration going on around Chris’s desk, but it looked his way when Hank raised his voice and then it smiled at him and walked over, both actions looking unnatural and stiff. It came to a stop next to Catherine and stood there with its awkwardly perfect posture and its punchable face. It was unfucking believable. Of course it would, because all androids in a series were the same; churned out by the thousands from the assholes of CyberLife’s manufacturing centres like the shit they were. Hank curled his lip in disgust looking at it. Goofy looking jackass android.</p><p>“Hello, Lieutenant,” it said. Hell, it even sounded the same. “It’s me: Connor. The android assigned to be your partner.”</p><p>“That thing isn’t Connor,” Hank said, glaring at Catherine. “Connor got shot in the fucking head. I saw pieces of it fly across the fucking room.”</p><p>“The previous model was unfortunately destroyed,” the stupid android spoke up. Hank shut it up by jabbing it in the chest with a finger.</p><p>“I don’t want to hear another word from you, you plastic piece of shit.”</p><p>“You can talk, Connor,” Catherine contradicted him a second later. Of course she would.</p><p>This fake Connor took a step backward and straightened its stupid fucking tie. “I’m sorry. As I was saying, the last model was destroyed... I never got to hear what you thought about the interrogation. Did it not go well?”</p><p>“Huh?” Hank narrowed his eyes. “What, did you fucks program it to ask that?”</p><p>“Its coding and memory were transferred to me,” said the clone. “Don’t worry: it shouldn’t affect the investigation.”</p><p>“The investigation...” This was just fucking perfect wasn’t it? “I watched you get shot.”</p><p>“Right,” it said, totally missing the point. It even tried to give him another awkward smile, but Hank refused it with a deepening glare. “We didn’t finish the conversation. What <em>did </em>you think about the investigation, Lieutenant?”</p><p>All that blackness churning around inside of him steamed like the stench of rot around a corpse and Hank clenched his fists as it finally boiled over. You didn’t get to die and waltz back in like nothing happened. Damian would have been without a dad if Chris had died on that rooftop- no second chances. Cole didn’t get to walk back into the house and smile at him. Cole didn’t get to do anything any more, and this machine- this piece of garbage- just shrugged off a bullet to the face? Some well-meaning idiots had suggested that Hank get himself an android once. They had said it would be like having Cole back again, and he could even change the name and everything. He’d never spoken to them again. Human beings weren’t fucking replaceable. You might be able to program a machine to talk and act like something close to human, but they were hist hollow fucking shells.</p><p>You didn’t get to just come back.</p><p>Hank stood so fast his chair slid back and he punched the shit out of it.</p><p>The android kept its balance for the first one, so Hank hit it again and followed it down, holding tight to that stupid tie.</p><p>He should have let that guy at the bar have his fun.</p><p>He shouldn’t have bothered looking at the repairs going on out of the corner of his eye.</p><p>He shouldn’t have given a shit the first time Reed shot it.</p><p>He shouldn’t have dreamed about the second time.</p><p>He should have just thrown it in the trash.</p><p>Knees on the hard floor, knuckles bleeding, face twisted with rage, Hank felt something other than bleak despair. He wasn’t sure what he was shouting at it, but he didn’t give it the chance to answer.</p><p>Then they were pulling him off of it with their hands on his arms and shoulders. “Let me go!” He snapped.</p><p>“Hank!” Fowler barked, louder than Hank could snap and just as angry. “What the hell are you doing?”</p><p>Fuck. Breathing hard, Hank looked around himself at the guys holding him back and at the ones staring at the scene. Nancy had moved to the break room where she was rocking up and down on her feet to comfort Damian while Chris was right there. He might have even been one of the guys trying to stop him from busting the android.</p><p>Hank wasn’t sure how to answer.</p><p>“RK800, stand up,” Catherine said.</p><p>It started to move and Chris held his hand out. “Here.”</p><p>Not-Connor looked at the hand and then at Catherine who nodded. Chris helped it up and caught it by the shoulder when it stumbled.</p><p>“Fuck this,” Hank grumbled. “I’m out of here!” He called to Jeff. Let him deal with it.</p><p>Hank wasn’t participating in this bullshit charade.</p><p>CyberLife could go fuck itself.</p><p> </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0011"><h2>11. Secrets</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“Hey, you alright?”</p><p>“Yes,” Connor answered. He adjusted his jacket and straightened his tie. The numbness that smoothed the edges of his alarm and prevented his stress level from elevating to a detrimental level relegated the last few minutes of his memory to a lonely folder: accessible, but not something that would be likely to be revisited. It was over, after all.</p><p>“You’re him, aren’t you?”</p><p>Connor scanned the man who’d steadied him. “My name is Connor.” His name was Officer Chris Wilson, born 2003.</p><p>“I mean,” Officer Wilson gestured awkwardly and looked away. “I hardly remember nothing but you were there on the roof, right?”</p><p>“What’s going on?” A woman asked. She was carrying something and looking at Officer Wilson with concern. Name: Nancy H. Wilson; Born 2005; No Criminal Record.</p><p>“I think this is the android,” Officer Wilson said to his spouse. They stood very close to each other; much closer than most of the people at the DPD did. Was it an artifact of marriage? The small thing made a high-pitched sound and waved its arms around, making a clumsy grab for Mrs. Wilson’s face. Connor tried to run a scan on it, but there were no results in his database of faces and information. “The one that saved me.”</p><p>“My name is Connor,” he repeated and smiled at Mrs. Wilson. “I’m pleased to meet you.”</p><p>“Do you remember me?” Officer Wilson peered at him with a small frown.</p><p>“I remember you. Daniel had shot you and you were bleeding out. I applied a tourniquet. You have my tie.” Connor was pleased to see a smile break out across the officer’s face. Arebellious and curiouspart of his mind had followed Lieutenant Anderson and limited his happiness somewhat. What had he done wrong? Hardly out of CyberLife for an hour and he had already provoked the Lieutenant to violence. It was even worse than last time.</p><p>“You see?” Officer Wilson beamed. Chloe cleared her throat with a polite smile.</p><p>“I hope you remember the agreement between yourselves and CyberLife...?” she asked. Connor admired her gentle approach.</p><p>“Oh! Uh... Yeah,” Officer Wilson said, his enthusiasm morphing into visible feelings of embarrassment. “Yeah, I remember. Not a word to no-body about the android... But that includes this one too? Nobody got to know about that other one.”</p><p>Chloe smiled with a sympathetic cant to her eyebrows. “I’m sorry. CyberLife will be releasing information on a planned schedule. If you wouldn’t mind waiting, we would appreciate it.”</p><p>“Right,” Officer Wilson acknowledged. “Sure.” He seemed a little less exuberant, but still happy. He put an arm around Mrs. Wilson’s waist and smiled at Connor and Chloe both. “This here’s my wife and my son. I would never have gotten to meet him if it wasn’t for y’all, so, thank you. Really.” He faced Chloe now, so Connor took a subtle step back and turned his attention to the baby human. It was so much smaller than adult humans, and much smaller than even Emma Phillips who had been up until this point the smallest human that Connor had ever seen.</p><p>“I’m pleased to meet you,” Connor said to him. He recorded his name and face under Damian Wilson, born shortly after August 14<sup>th</sup>2038. The details were incomplete, but he could ask for them later. “My name is Connor. I’ll be working with your father at the DPD and I hope we’ll get along.”</p><p>Damian babbled at him in return, but didn’t seem bothered by the fact that his speech was inarticulate. Connor looked at Officer and Mrs. Wilson, but they didn’t seem alarmed either. Mrs. Wilson even smiled and bounced a little while she joined the conversation with Chloe.</p><p>“That was great work,” she said. “I’m not sure most androids would do the same.”</p><p>Chloe corrected her with her usual gentle smile, “We have paramedic-assistant androids too, though they wouldn’t have been equipped to deal with the negotiation.” Chloe turned the smile on Connor and he returned it. “RK800, your orders are to collaborate with Lieutenant Hank Anderson during the investigation into deviant androids and to obey the commands of others in order of priority. Take the deviants alive if possible. Amanda will let you know if there is anything else. Okay?”</p><p>“Yes, Chloe,” Connor nodded. “I’ll do my best.”</p><p>“Goodbye, Connor. Good to meet you in person, Officer and Mrs. Wilson.”</p><p>“Bye,” Mrs. Wilson waved with one hand. “Say bye to the lady, Damian!”</p><p>“Abaaa!” Damian exclaimed.</p><p>“I’m happy to see that you’re doing well,” Connor said to Officer Wilson. “If there’s anything I can do to be of assistance around the office, let me know. I have a variety of features specific to police work.”</p><p>“Thanks, man,” Officer Wilson gave him another wide smile.</p><p>“You’re... welcome,” Connor answered curiously.</p><p>“Come on, honey,” Mrs. Wilson prompted, nudging her husband with her arm. “The computer can wait. Your friends are waiting for you to cut the cake.”</p><p>“Yeah, of course,” Officer Wilson put his face close to Mrs. Wilson’s. A kiss on the cheek. Significance: affection. “Uh, do you want some cake, Connor?”</p><p>“No thank you, Officer Wilson. Enjoy your celebration.”</p><p>“Thanks. Right, yeah, makes sense...”</p><p>They left, and Connor brushed off his jacket then walked carefully around the Lieutenant’s desk. He was gone with no indication of when he would return which was problematic. There were photos on his board which suggested a sentimental nature; clutter and old food and drink that suggested either that he was very busy or neglectful of himself and his space; lots of physical paper, which was still a novelty to interact with; and plenty of anti-android propaganda. Was that really all there was to it?</p><p>Connor looked through the papers on the desk and pulled a black notebook from underneath a stack. He opened it and flipped through the pages.</p><p>“HA01-37-097228</p><p> </p><p>Maybe 19 days</p><p>Garbage?? Phone city.</p><p>Staff cleaning?</p><p>IDat bar?? Need date.</p><p>CCTV 3 drunk guys kicked it around and left</p><p>3 bullet wounds</p><p>Scoring on wall fragments? Search.</p><p>Narcotics?</p><p>CCTV cut out 08-27 lead? Get records.</p><p>Somebody fucking saw something. Bar guy is a lying prick.</p><p>Phys exam: late stage decay. Stinks like shit.</p><p>Too dead to tell ethnicity or accurage age: maybe 20-30</p><p>Skull OK</p><p>Clothes intact also stink like shit.</p><p>Should call this the case that stank like shit concerning shitty assholes.</p><p>...”</p><p>Case notes. Connor took the book with him to his desk and opened it. Lieutenant Anderson’s notes were unconventional, just like the man himself. The case codes were helpfully written at the top, but from there on the organization seemed to be based more on feeling than on category. It was interesting, and Connor had to look back to follow the connections. Fascinated, Connor continued to read. After all, there could be cases with deviant involvement that had been overlooked in the past. It would be important to review all of the information available to him.</p><p>---</p><p>Lieutenant Anderson had many notebooks, all of which were either stored in his desk or, in the case of the older ones, stored in boxes in archives. Retrieving the boxes hadn’t been difficult. At the hour he’d gone, a PC200 was in charge of access. His access to DPD information digital or otherwise had still not been processed, but Connor found his way around that oversight easily enough. He interfaced with it, cracked its security, and then explained his purpose.</p><p>“Thank you for your assistance,” he’d said and stepped through the opened door.</p><p>There was something enjoyable about working after Captain Fowler had gone home and the shift had changed. That wasn’t to say that the team that Connor had been assigned to was unpleasant necessarily, but these humans seemed far less interested in him and largely ignored his presence and that of the other androids. It allowed Connor time to focus.</p><p>The thought-based work wasn’t a problem.</p><p>Operating himself on the other hand was... challenging, and that was a cause for concern. No-one could know, so Connor paid extra attention to his posture and expressions. Every step was meant to be an even distance and his hands were meant to move in anticipation of the thing that Connor wanted to touch. Thought to action. He was a tool. A machine. There was no acceptable reason for him to be unable to function. Not if he were already in beta.</p><p>The technicians in charge of his calibration and verification had been concerned too and every time one of them hadcomplained about the contract with the DPD or political pushes, Connor hadfelt the weight of their expectations. That measure was accurate with a coefficient of variance less than 0.01%, he was sure. If Connor couldn’t perform, then they would feel the consequences of his failure. CyberLife would be embarrassed and Connor himself would be crushed. Over 50 failures and revivals to reach this point... If they returned to optimization or abandoned his project...</p><p>Connor was built to succeed. If he failed to do so, then he simply wasn’t good enough.</p><p>So when he missed a step on the stairs and slid down a few steps while he tried to keep hold of the box and catch himself simultaneously, Connor could only feel shame. Walking was one of the first things he had learned to do. He was equipped with military-grade combat skills and was light-weight to improve his agility and speed. This was just pathetic.</p><p>He recovered his composure before proceeding to set the box down with the others beside his and the Lieutenant’s desks. A quick scan helped him to identify from which box he should proceed. The notes were fascinating and provided much more insight into the Lieutenant’s thought processes than the electronic records. In fact, some of the details filled in the gaps that Connor had been unable to address when sifting through the Lieutenant’s backlog.</p><p>Would the Lieutenant come in to work tomorrow? Logic dictated that he should, but Connor was beginning to suspect that he was going to be very unpredictable to work with. He thought about asking Amanda for advice, but shame stopped him as surely as a safety lock on his controls. He couldn’t face her like this.</p><p>So Connor made himself useful by reading the Lieutenant’s old notes with one hand propping the book open and the other under the terminal’s scanner for an interface. His awareness split and he flipped through files and documents with speed and precision that he doubted he could currently replicate physically. Thought to action; information to knowledge. It was smooth and the speed of data transfer was only limited by the terminal’s processor. Why did it have to obey him so easily? This old, fragile, buggy, slow terminal... Connor clenched his jaw briefly, but shoved the thoughts out of his mind forcefully. He had to focus.</p><p> </p><p>IfScenario(he didn’t concentrate)</p><p>Prediction:then he wouldn’t make any progress.</p><p>IfScenario(he made no progress)</p><p>Prediction:then they would dissect him.</p><p>IfScenario(they dissected him)</p><p>Prediction: then they would scour every scrap;</p><p>and then;</p><p>IfScenario(he were lucky)</p><p>Prediction: they would piece him together again,</p><p>or else</p><p>they would just throw him away.</p><p> </p><p>Did Lieutenant Anderson really think that he was garbage?</p><p>He had to focus if he were going prove that he was functional and useful.</p><p>And processing data was all he was certain he could do.</p><p>He had to concentrate.</p><p>Connor extricated himself from the terminal and pulled his quarter from his breast pocket. He felt the metal between his fingers fondly and tossed it up into the air. Watched its path to map the trajectory, related it back to what it had felt like to throw, moved his hand to intercept...</p><p>---</p><p>Hank woke up, looked at the time to see that it was way the fuck too early, and shut his eyes. It would be fine. He could just sleep another half hour. Jeff was already pissed and lately, Hank wasn’t sure how long of a rope he had and where Jeff was in relation to the end of it. It would be fine, wouldn’t it? What kind of miserable fuck couldn’t drag himself to work on time? Everybody else managed it. Some people managed it with whole damn lives to take care of when they got home instead of just wasting time watching TV. What the hell was wrong with him? One of these days, Jeff was going to can him for sure. Probably the only reason he hadn’t was that they’d been friends and they both knew Hank needed that job. It was the only damn thing to make him feel needed and useful anymore. Here he was letting Jeff down when he kept sticking his neck out for him.He’d have to explain why he’d freaked out. He’d have to listen to Jeff yell at him. He’d have to deal with them all sneering and just knowing that he was late again.</p><p>God, he didn’t want to get up. He just wanted to sleep.</p><p>He weighed the cons and benefits. He knew damn well that he was an alcoholic wreck and he’d had long enough to be forgiving and kind to himself. He should just snap out of it.</p><p>No, an immediate thought hit him with a fistful of anxiety: he couldn’t leave Cole.</p><p>The sun was slipping in through the blinds in bright strips of yellow-white. Hank turned over and pulled the blankets back up to shield his face. Not yet. He’d get up later.</p><p>He just couldn’t do it right now. Fuck it.</p><p>The pillowcase had that sweaty, oily feel to it and he’d spilled an awful lot of booze on the duvet. There was laundry all over the damn room. He should do that some time... It probably wouldn’t be soon. Just thinking about it was exhausting.</p><p>Irritable, always tired, excessive drinking, no laundry, chips and beer for dinner... With effort and awareness born from practice and a couple years of therapy, Hank knew himself enough to know he was pretty well fucked. Maybe if he survived past New-Year he’d put it all except Colebehind him and start getting his shit together. Try to hold himself together again for another few weeks or months or however long he could do it for. Hah. What a joke. Hank sighed and pulled the blankets more tightly around himself. What was the point of another year of nothing?</p><p>He needed a drink.</p><p>---</p><p>It was just about noon when Hank walked into the station. Looking to the right he could see Jeff standing up behind his desk and gesturing while he talked on the phone. Hopefully it was somebody who deserved to be reamed out more than he did. He could also see Reed looking over his shoulder at him and scoffing before turning back to his work. Ben waved. Good old Ben. Never judged nobody unless they’d gutted someone in an alley or something. Hank nodded at him and gave a little shrug because what else was there to say? Across from his own desk Connor was surrounded by cardboard archive boxes, papers, and notebooks. Hank heaved a sigh. Annoyance hit him like the blast of hot air he’d felt when he’d walked in out of the cold, but it faded just as quickly and seeped into his bones where it mingled with his exhaustion and became resentment. Fucking android. What was it doing now?</p><p>RK800 or whatever stood up and gave him one of those fake-ass smiles. Everything about it was too deliberate to be natural, and its expression too fixed to mean shit. “Hello, Lieutenant Anderson. I hope you had a good evening!”</p><p>Hank didn’t have patience for that kind of pep from a human, never mind an android. He ignored it and sat down at his desk with a sigh then started to log in. Time to see what kind of shit accumulated over night. It stood there for a second longer then left. Good... Huh. Not as many alerts as he’d expected. He clicked a few times in rapid succession to get rid of all the notifications about new documents he would never read and then pulled up the shit he needed to authorize from the night shift. Some dick heads didn’t even know how to write a fucking intake form. Jesus Christ. Hank sighed again and shook his head. A soft tap. A shadow over his shoulder. Hank looked up with a scowl.</p><p>“You like to drink coffee in the morning,” said the android. “It isn’t technically morning anymore, but I hope you like it.” Hank looked down at the mug resting by his forearm: typical station coffee with cream and sugar. Hank turned away without acknowledging it and went back to work. Maybe if he treated this pest like any other android then it would get the hint and stop bothering him. Still, he could feel it looming over him and it made him want to hunch his shoulders. Fucking androids. It left again and Hank took a deep breath.</p><p>“Anderson!” Jeff was standing on the top of his little flight of stairs with his arms crossed.</p><p>“Ugh...” Hank heaved himself up out of his chair and grimaced. “Why can’t anybody leave me alone...” At least Jeff was waiting until he got in the damn office before he started laying into him. How mad was he going to be? It wasn’t like things could get worse, right? Benefits of being a suicidal fuck-up; it was just more shit on the pile at this point.</p><p>Jeff walked back around to his chair and sat with his arms propped on his desk, leaning forward like he did whenever it was time to Talk.</p><p>“Just get it over with, Jeff,” Hank said. “I got pissed; I fucked up the android. Enough said. I don’t got any excuses.”</p><p>“You’re lucky that the CyberLife representative didn’t say anything,” Jeff said sternly. Yeah, he was lucky alright. Hank shrugged. “What has gotten into you, Hank? No, really. It’s like we’re at war every single day. We’re supposed to be a team. What kind of example are you setting for officers under you, huh?” Not a very good one. Hank waited for him to finish talking. “Are you still taking your medication?”</p><p>“Fucking hell, Jeff,” Hank looked up and glared. “Can you just write me up and get it over with?”</p><p>“I wouldn’t be a good Captain if I did,” Jeff said. He leaned back in his chair and gave him The Look. “You need to get your shit together.”</p><p>“Tell me something I don’t know.” If that was all that he had to say, then this was a waste of both their time.</p><p>“I can’t help you if you don’t try.”</p><p>He’d heard that before. “I don’t want your help, so relax. You don’t have to do anything. I. Am. Fine. I fucked up and got angry, what more do you want?”</p><p>“I am talking to you as your Captain right now, not as your buddy. What do I need to do to get you out of this... this whatever this is? I thought you were interested in this investigation, so what changed?” Hank looked up again and studied the man across from him. Jeff looked annoyed still, but he was more relaxed than Hank’d expected.</p><p>“Nothing changed,” Hank said. He sat up a little straighter and kept his head up. “Jeff, I want to figure out what’s going on, probably more than the next guy... This is just. It’s not a good time, alright?”</p><p>Jeff looked at him and whatever he saw, he seemed satisfied. “I’ve got something for you,” he said, and he pulled a paper folder out of his desk drawer then slid it over. Hank had to lean forward to grab it, and he opened it. Inside was a picture along with some personal details: Thomas Mallory, CyberLife employee, 42 years old, single... Pretty usual stuff, so what was he looking at?</p><p>“Don’t tell me this guy’s a suspect or something,” Hank said in disbelief. “He looks like he eats bologna on white bread every day and labels his underwear.”</p><p>“Not a suspect. They dropped his file off yesterday before you left. It’s not an official report, but he hasn’t been coming in to work. He’s been AWOL a few times, but they want us to take a look for them off the books. Last time he was seen was on a repair call sent by <em>your</em>android.”</p><p>“What?” Was this one of the guys who’d been patching it up? Hank scoured his brain for some familiar detail, but he was coming up blank and he had a decent eye for details.</p><p>“It was six days ago, the RK800 sent a call to CyberLife asking them to take a look at a Parks and Services android,” Jeff explained. Hank skimmed the papers and nodded. Yep. “WR600 #021 753 034; Released 2031; City of Detroit, Parks and Services.” was right there along with a transcription of what must have been Connor’s request:</p><p>“3132483175210:14:28: RK800 prototype designation Connor.</p><p>765233112 10:16:29: RK800, what is the nature of your call?</p><p>31324831753 10:17:56: A WR600 android serial number 021 753 034 has sustained damage, visual still attached. Requesting a technician be deployed for repairs.</p><p>765233112 10:32:02: A technician has been assigned for dispatch and the unit located.</p><p>31324831752 10:33:12: Thank you, Julia.”</p><p>Hank nodded. “Yeah, I remember that. There was another protest and a few androids got fucked up.”</p><p>“The technician took the call and disappeared,” Jeff said. “I want you to look into it. Discreetly.”</p><p>Hank narrowed his eyes. “Let me guess: bad publicity for CyberLife?”</p><p>“Something like that... Just see what you can find. Take the android with you.”</p><p>Hah... “Right, so they can babysit me. I see how it is.” He’d have to play along for now if he wanted to learn more about what was happening higher up. “What do you think happened?”</p><p>“I couldn’t say,” said Jeff. “All I know is that they want everything kept unofficial, no records other than what the android sends them.”</p><p>“Right.” He’d be bringing a notebook. “Anything else I should know?”</p><p>“Yes... Be careful. I don’t like this going on in my precinct, but my hands are tied. I’m not going to put up a fuss about you punching the RK800, but only because it sets a good precedent. It won’t look unusual if you have to take it offline again.”</p><p>Jesus. “Be honest, Jeff, do you know something I don’t?”</p><p>Jeff shook his head. “Not yet, but I’ll keep you informed.”</p><p>“You damn well better,” Hank said, shutting the folder. Jeff sighed and nodded. It must have been stressing him out, because he looked better: less tense. “I’ll check it out.”</p><p>“Thanks, Hank.”</p><p>“Hah. I should be thanking you. I’ve got a free pass to shut that android down, so what more could a guy want?”</p><p>Jeff smirked. “I dunno, Hank. Peace on Earth; good will between men? You’ve got this.”</p><p>With the file in hand and feeling a little lighter now that he hadn’t had his head ripped of or another note added to his record, Hank walked down the stairs. He’d have to find out where the android worked and go from there, and maybe do a little asking around the tech’s co-workers. Discreet wouldn’t apply to his talking with CyberLife employees, would it? If it did, he’d have to knock a few heads. If he were lucky, there’d be cameras around the scene or the guy’d keep a fucking calendar. He looked like the type. Maybe the guy had info and he’d bolted with it... He’d keep the possibility in mind.</p><p>“Ah, Jeez...” Hank rolled his eyes and headed for Reed’s desk. The jumped up chihuahua was standing up and Connor was down, surrounded by bits of broken ceramic and a puddle of coffee.</p><p>“Hey, Anderson, your toy just dumped coffee on my fucking lap. What are you going to do about it?”</p><p>“I’m sorry!” Connor moved and fell over itself as it tried to get away. Probably smart: Reed looked pissed. “I didn’t mean to. It was an accident: a malfunction!”</p><p>“Bullfuckingshit,” Reed glared and stepped closer to lean down. “You’re a calculator on legs, and you think you can run around here like a human and pulling shit like this? You think you’re better than me?”</p><p>“Holy shit, Reed,” Hank wasn’t sure if he should laugh or not.</p><p>“Well?” Reed demanded.<br/>“No, I don’t!” Connor got itself up again and Reed pushed it over.</p><p>“You better fucking not, cause this is my turf, got it?”</p><p>“What, nobody wanted to get into a pissing match with you, so you tried to start one with an android?” Sure, Reed liked messing with the stupid things, but this kind of violence was usually Hank’s job.</p><p>“Don’t fucking judge me, asshole! You saw this thing. They even gave it a fucking desk! It’s not human!”</p><p>“Yeah, you’re right, it’s not. Right now I need it, so hands off, huh? You can do what you want later and maybe I’ll join you.”</p><p>Reed looked at him. He was honestly a pretty funny sight... Hank smirked.</p><p>“Fuck you,” Reed said. He pushed past him in the direction of the stairs to the locker room and Hank snorted. Arms crossed, he looked down at Connor.</p><p>“Well? You heard me. Get this shit cleaned up and let’s go. We’ve got a case.”</p><p>“We do?” Connor blinked up at him like he’d pulled a rabbit out of a hat. “I didn’t get a report.”</p><p>“Yeah, well, you don’t know everything. Hurry up.”</p><p>It switched through a few ‘emotions’ before its face settled on something better suited to an android and it stood up slowly then brushed off its jacket like that would do anything about the coffee on it. “Right away, Lieutenant. I’ll hurry.”</p><p>Hank scoffed a little, thinking about Reed’s stupid face. He should have gotten his phone out... Oh well. Turning his attention back to the case, he walked over to his desk and chugged his own coffee then grabbed his coat. At least he’d have something interesting to do instead of fucking paperwork.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0012"><h2>12. Questions and Answers</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Hi again! Thank you very much for your comments and support! :) I hope this continues to be interesting for you.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Connor sat down in the Lieutenant’s vehicle and buckled its seatbelt, then took out his quarter. He felt the gentle curves of its surfaceand checked the weight of it: 5.80g, which was 142mg heavier than previous measurements but just as incorrect. His quarter weighed 5.67g. It was a fact.</p><p>Power: 78%<br/>
Central processing: 22%<br/>
Temperature: OK<br/>
Server Connection: OK<br/>
AI System: OK<br/>
VMNA Systems: ERROR<br/>
Calibrating somatosensory system...<br/>
BA1 OK<br/>
BA3a FAIL<br/>
BA3b FAIL<br/>
BA5 OK<br/>
BA7 FAIL</p><p>Connor ended the diagnostic before it could continue and glanced at his owner.Lieutenant Anderson hadn’t said anything about the coffee, but he hadn’t needed to: Connor was aware. Discreetly, he looked down and held the quarter on one open palm, then moved the other hand to touch it.</p><p>
  <em>Look down... Okay, RK800, touch my finger... And again over here...</em>
</p><p>He recalled the rough field-assessmenthe’d been subjected to and finally understood why they’d bothered to check.Being out of the lab didn’t necessarily mean all functions were online.He shut his eyes and attempted to replicate the movement, but he felt denim instead of his quarter. Disappointed, he opened his eyes and took note of the difference between where he’d meant to touch and where his hand had ended up.</p><p>Stress Level: 62%<br/>
He wished he could have finished calibrating on time. Luckily, Lieutenant Anderson was focused on the road and paid little attention to Connor. If the Lieutenant found out... No, he wouldn’t find out but if he <em>did</em>then of course he would report the issue. A faulty machine should be replaced or repaired. If the faults were never made obvious then were they really consequential? He had never done an extensive calibrationon his own, never mind without an external interface to a computer,but he could find some way to fix himself and everything would be fine. He would be able to face Amanda again and even if she were upset that he’d avoided her, a successful case would soften her anger.</p><p>The guilt was unexpectedly hard to cope with but for the first time that he could remember, there was no-one monitoring his internal readings. If he could use that to <em>avoid</em>making anyone angry then wasn’t it for the best?</p><p>When the vehicle was stopped, they were in Greek Town againnear the plaza that Connor-52 had seen before. Lieutenant Anderson cut the power to the engine and withdrew his key from its port behind the manual control. Connor looked at his reflection in the glass and made sure that his smile was perfect before turning to look at him. “Lieutenant, you mentioned something about a case...”</p><p>“Yup,” he said. “Stay here and don’t wander around, got it?”</p><p>STAY IN THE CAR</p><p>“Got it.”</p><p>The Lieutenant grumbled and climbed out of the car, door thudding shut behind him. Connor reached for the handle, tugged, and got out of the car. He shut it carefully and walked with his back straight and his eyes up in the Lieutenant’s foot prints... Connor paused and looked down at the snow. It squeaked under his shoes and the marks of the Lieutenant’s boots were as nice as if they’d been made in clay. Ice was amazing. The water formed crystals as it fell through the sky, the snow could be light and soft, or packed and hard. It could blow away in the breeze or hold a shape as complex as the treads of the Lieutenant’s shoes. It had never been winter in the garden. He wondered if Amanda would like it.</p><p>“Hey!”</p><p>Connor looked up to see the Lieutenant standing less than a meter away from him and scowling. His tone was full of impatience and Connor’s facial recognition software had been tailored toward classifying the nuances of peoples’ expressions. His scowl was impatient too. “Yes, Lieutenant?”</p><p>“I thought I told you to--... You know what? Fuck it. If you’re so damn set on following me, could you at least keep up? It’s cold as balls.”</p><p>“I was just looking at the footprints,” Connor said. He initiated a scan and in the break between sentences hundreds of numbers scattered themselves across the snow: shoe sizes, approximate weights and speeds, group sizes. He could call up the brands of the shoes too, and he could identify which prints had been made by androids. At least 60% of the data was useless because of overlap and the malleable nature of the snow, but he still had something. More than something, there were so many. Wire-frame figures walked the paths, overlapping slices of time back an hour, two hours... Connor ended the scan abruptly and looked away to hide his face.</p><p>“And?” Lieutenant Anderson prompted.</p><p>“There are so many people...” He didn’t know which were important and which to discard, so he kept all of the data. The sheer scale of these investigations outside of development struck him again.</p><p>“Come on...” Lieutenant Anderson groaned and he grabbed Connor by the shoulder. “You’re an android. What the hell are you worrying about people for? Get moving.” Despite his complaint, the Lieutenant steered him toward the park without damaging him and that was a relief. If they were moving on, perhaps the footprints didn’t require further analysis right now. He left the scan in storage and dedicated his working memory and attention to regaining his posture. The Lieutenant’s warm, heavy hand on his shoulder was a strong reminder to stay mindful of his movements. Once he’d found his rhythm again, the Lieutenant gave him a small shove and shouldered past him to take the lead. Connor kept his balance and followed him.</p><p>KEEP CALIBRATION DEFICIENCY SECRET<br/>
ASK LIEUTENANT ANDERSON ABOUT THE CASE<br/>
INVESTIGATE THE CASE<br/>
REPORT TO CYBERLIFE</p><p>“Lieutenant?” Connor tried to look at his face while they walked. “Can you tell me why we’re here?”</p><p>“Not so much fun, is it? Not knowing...”</p><p>“Not particularly,” Connor answered. “I’ll be able to be of much greater assistance if you explain the case to me.”</p><p>“Hey, why don’t you tell me something? That android you interrogated a couple days back... What did you try and stop Miller and Thompsonfor, anyway?”</p><p>“I wanted to keep the deviant from shutting itself down. Its stress levels were dangerously elevated and if Officer Thompsonhad continued then it was almost certainly going to self-destruct.”</p><p>“Android suicide, huh?”</p><p>“Not necessarily... Suicide is the act of killing oneself. An android isn’t alive, so it can’t be killed.”</p><p>“It seemed pretty shaken up about the idea of those nerds taking it apart.”</p><p>“It was malfunctioning, Lieutenant. Like the deviant you saw in my memory footage, it had come to think of itself as a person. Somehow that destabilizes the code and makes them dangerous.”</p><p>“I thought you guys didn’t know what caused it.”</p><p>“We don’t...” Connor admitted. “The destabilization could come first. The best CyberLife has to go on is that some kind of emotional shock can cause an android to disobey its orders and break the safety limits on its behaviour. It’s the working theory. As I’ve said, aside from Daniel and now Ortiz’s android, only one other incident is known to us. We need more data.”</p><p>“Hm,” was all the Lieutenant had to say.</p><p>---</p><p>Hank trudged along the path and debated how much to tell Connor. His fury from yesterday had worn itself down to something that felt weirdly like betrayal, and it was smouldering away in his gut. It was a cold fire that didn’t do shit to warm him up. He’d drank so fucking much he was surprised he’d woken up at all, Jeff had let him off the hook, Reed had made a jackass of himself, and he had some legwork to do... Those were all something, at least.</p><p>Not enough to make anything sunshine and roses, but he was up and moving. If he hadn’t had this case...</p><p>Hank took a few more steps and then stopped with a sigh. “Connor,” he said. “That android from the other day, the one with the fucked up face. Can you tell if it’s around here?”</p><p>“I’ll check,” it answered, and its light turned yellow while it looked around. Its shoulders rounded a little again and it frowned. When it had stalled over by the footprints it had looked like that: overwhelmed and worried. Hank could watch it build up in the android’s expression and he wished it weren’t so lifelike. It made him think about that interrogation and birds and coffee mugs. Just little shit like that, but it had stuck with him. There was probably a programmer somewhere with a formula for what shit worked best to manipulate people, right down to that android freaking out in the interrogation. Connorshook its head. “Nothing. It’s not online. I sent a request for that android to be repaired, so it’s possible that it’s being worked on or even replaced. It was a rather old model... All of my attempts are timing out. I found the PK200 from archives as a positive control, so I don’t believe that it’s my system at fault.”</p><p>“Is that so... Well, can you, I dunno, check with CyberLife and see if somebody’s got it?”</p><p>“Yes. I can do that,” it agreed. “Did I miss something during my questioning?”</p><p>“Just get me an answer.” Connor looked down. Fucking androids. Hank frowned and looked around the park. There were other androids around so maybe one of them had seen something. There had to be a human around somewhere to supervise all of these things. He’d kind of assumed so when he’d driven out here but there wasn’t anybody obviously in charge of them: just androids as far as the eye could see.</p><p>“TheWR600’s ticket is still pending,” Connor said. It walked a few steps closer to Hank and looked at him, then kept on looking.</p><p>“Why the fuck are you staring at me? Do I got something on my face or what?”</p><p>“No, I was trying to figure out why you’re interested in the WR600 and what I overlooked.”</p><p>“Well quit it. It’s creeping me out.”</p><p>“Sorry, Lieutenant...”</p><p>What the fuck did he do now? He glanced over at Connor and considered. As fun as it was letting it squirm, this was a request from CyberLife; Connor was gonna find out about it sooner or later. He was surprised they hadn’t e-mailed it or something. Why hadn’t they? Hank sighed. “Whatever... If I’m all the way out here, I might as well get some food.” There’d been a hotdog stand back there with some brave guy probably freezing his ass off to earn some money. He’d have to find something else to do once winter really set in. He walked up to the cart and fished out his wallet. “Can I get a couple of smokies with the works and...” No soda? Oh, there it was. “a root beer?”</p><p>“You don’t want that thing to do it for you?” The guy scowled atsomewhere behind Hank and he glanced back to see Connor.</p><p>“No actually, I don’t, so can I finish getting my lunch, please?” Fuck, why did everything have to be so much damn trouble? All he wanted was a fucking hotdog.</p><p>The hotdog guy wasn’t going to make things easy. “Go back to your private island, pal. This here’s an android-free zone now, so take your robot and get out.”</p><p>“The hell are you talking about?”</p><p>“I don’t want your business, so keep on walking.”</p><p>“Hey, what the hell is your problem, asshole?” Hank glared at the guy. He hated androids as much as the next guy, and it wasn’t his fault he got stuck with one. “I don’t need you lumping me in with--”</p><p>“You want to know what my problem is? You’re the problem, mister. Too lazy to wipe your own ass without an android to do it for you!”</p><p>“Okay, you know what? I’m out of here. Have a great day,” Hank turned away, disgusted in a weird way that made him a little unsure who to even be pissed at. “Prick,” he muttered under his breath.</p><p>“Why was that man so angry?” Connor asked. Christ...</p><p>“Why do you think?”</p><p>“I think that he held anti-android sentiments similar to those expressed by the protestors. He refused to serve you because he assumed you had bought me for personal use.”</p><p>“Ugh, don’t say it like that,” Hank wrinkled his nose. “Yeah, thought I was some pro-android, capitalist dumbass. Come on, we’re not going to find anything here anyway.” He wanted a hotdog now, damn it. He was pretty sure there was a place nearby.</p><p>“How should I say it, Lieutenant?”</p><p>“What?”</p><p>“The vendor’s assumption that you had purchased me.”</p><p>“I don’t know,” Hank snapped. “But not like that.” Their shoes squeaked a little in the snow that hadn’t been shovelled up yet. Man, what a waste of time...</p><p>“I’m glad that you’re my owner,” Connor said. Hank paused to look at it in disbelief. It continued: “I know we’re not on the best terms right now, but I hope that I’ll be able to be a good partner.” Its hand went up to touch its cheek and it frowned, then touched its LED instead. With its fingers covering up the little glowing light, reality did that weird thing again. The same thing it had done when he’d found out it was an android to begin with, and what it had done during that interrogation. “I really... want to do my best. I’m sorry that my presence made you miss your lunch.”</p><p>“Yeah.” Hank turned away. “That’s what you’re programmed to say. Shit ain’t real.”</p><p>“I know.” It kept talking. Hank had expected it to shut up after that. “I’m not real, but I still want to prove myself and... I still want you to like me.”</p><p>“Weird-ass android...”</p><p>---</p><p>Connor accompanied Lieutenant Anderson to a new location, this time with indoor seating and a mix of androids and humans behind the counter. A whole building dedicated to selling and eating food. There were a number of such establishments in the area, and it seemed to Connor that it would be more convenient to put them all in one larger centre. Connor looked up at the list of foods alight on the wall and stepped up to the counter after the Lieutenant had placed his order. “I’d like a coffee, please, with cream and sugar.”</p><p>“How many would you like?”</p><p>“Just one,” Connor answered. He established a connection with the androidthen was informed that it was the terminal he should be directing payment toward. Connor paid for his coffee and then waited beside the Lieutenant who gave him a complicated look and a shake of his head.</p><p>“It meant how many creams and how many sugars, dumb ass,” he said.</p><p>“Oh.” Connor frowned. “Do you usually use more than one kind?”</p><p>“No! Ugh... I mean, how much. How <em>much </em>cream and how <em>much </em>sugar.”</p><p>“Oh. I’ll remember that for next time,” he said. A tray was placed on the counter with the Lieutenant’s lunch and Connor’s coffee on it. Connor reached for the tray, but the Lieutenant had already picked it up and begun to carry it to a table with two padded seats. The place was very orange, Connor thought to himself. Orange and yellow. It wasn’t his favourite mixture of wavelengths. He sat opposite the Lieutenant and reached for his coffee carefully. Rotate shoulder with elbow bent. Extend with wrist straight and fingers straight with thumb perpendicular. Watching his hand move made it much simpler to tell where it was going. He gripped the paper container with what was most likely an appropriate amount of force, lifted, and brought the cup closer to himself. He set it down successfully.</p><p>Lieutenant Anderson sighed. “What a waste of good coffee.”</p><p>“What do you mean?”</p><p>“I mean, you can’t even drink it.”</p><p>“I thought it might make you more comfortable. I know how much you dislike androids.”</p><p>Lieutenant Anderson scoffed and narrowed his eyes. “You don’t know the half of it.” He lifted his food to his mouth and took a bite. A scan and a comparison with the nutritional information provided by the restaurant as well as the recommended dietary guidelines for humans made it look like a bad decision...</p><p>ANDROIDS<br/>
DIET<br/>
CASE<br/>
DEVIANTS</p><p>“You really should’t eat that,” Connor said. “It could be bad for your health.”</p><p>The Lieutenant scoffed through his nose and finished chewing. “Good.” Connor wasn’t sure why that would be a good thing and he decided not to ask.</p><p>“Do you suppose that now you could tell me about the case?” Connor asked, leaning forward. He tried to make eye contact. “It really would help me be useful to you.”</p><p>“You really don’t know shit, huh?” Lieutenant Anderson asked after drinking some of his beverage through a small tube.</p><p>“No,” Connor admitted. “I haven’t gotten a report and no one has told me anything.”</p><p>“Not even CyberLife?”</p><p>“No,” he said again. “No one mentioned anything. I know that you’re interested in the WR600...”</p><p>“Hm,” the Lieutenant appeared thoughtful. “Alright... You know that guy you got them to send to fix it? Well, he’s gone. Straight-up gone.”</p><p>“He’s gone missing...?”</p><p>“Something like that. CyberLife didn’t want to make an official missing-persons report. Why do you suppose that might be?”</p><p>This was something that Connor could do. Immediately, he pulled up the WR600’s ticket, identified the technician dispatched, found his employee profile, looked for a criminal record, and examined his financial records. “Thomas Mallory,” he recited. “42 years of age, no criminal record, unmarried. No disciplinary action on record by the company. The last purchases he made were for his car battery, some groceries, and an android from the Eden Club. The timestamps indicate that he took the work-order...” Suddenly breathless, Connor stopped to disengage his combat protocol. He was scanning; not fighting. Another calibration error. “... He took the work-order, bought the food three hours later, and rented the android two hours after that.”</p><p>“What’s the Eden Club, dare I ask?”</p><p>“It seems to be a place for humans who don’t otherwise have access to one to rent companionship models for set amounts of time. It’s a sex club.”</p><p>“Ah, jeez... Alright. Moving on. So the guy took the job to fix that android, but the job never got done?”</p><p>“It was never recorded as complete,” Connor corrected. “He didn’t upload any field notes or diagnostic results either, but he could have been waiting until the job was complete... I don’t see any purchase records to indicate that he was waiting on a part...”</p><p>“No complaints from parks and services?”</p><p>“No,” Connor answered after checking the records. “We’re tasked with investigating android related crimes. Do you have reason to believe that the WR600 became deviant?” He was sure that it hadn’t been... He didn’t want to have been wrong, but he did want to find a deviant.</p><p>“We don’t know that yet,” the Lieutenant said after another bite of his food. “If you guys only know of three cases, then what are the odds?”</p><p>CALCULATE PERCENT PROBABILITY THAT THE WR600 IS DEVIANT</p><p>“Hey. Hey!” Lieutenant Anderson snapped his fingers in front of Connor, and Connor freed up some space to look up at him. “What the fuck is the matter with you?”</p><p>“Nothing, Lieutenant. I’m just calculating the odds as you requested. There are a lot of variables.”</p><p>“Glitchy fucking... It was rhetorical, alright? I don’t need a fucking number.”</p><p>“Oh...” Connor could see him frowning at him through the uncontrollable blinking and he furrowed his brow then ended the task.</p><p>“Hey. I wanna ask you something.”</p><p>“What is it, Lieutenant?”</p><p>“Are you actually the same? I mean, you keep talking like you’re the Connor from last time but it says right there that you’re a new version, so what is it?” The Lieutenant gestured at Connor’s jacket.</p><p>“I am...” What a strange question. “I’m number 53. You worked with number 52.”</p><p>“So you’re different.”</p><p>“I’m Connor,” he said immediately. “But I’m Connor number 53. I was shut down. They had to replace almost everything and my motherboard was completely shattered.” He could remember the progression from bullet impact to shut-down in picoseconds... “They had to replace almost everything,” he repeated and he looked down at his hand where it rested on the table near his coffee cup then flexed his fingers.</p><p>“Same brains new body.”</p><p>“My motherboard was shattered... All that was salvaged of 52 were his memories, some framework, and other nonessential components that were undamaged.”</p><p>“You said ‘his’ memories,” Lieutenant Anderson pointed out.</p><p>“It’s just easier that way when referring to the last time.”</p><p>“What do you mean by last time?”</p><p>“The time before. I was version 52, and then I was shot and now I’m version 53. 52 was shut down.”</p><p>“So it’s like a... a body count or something?”</p><p>Was it? How much of him could be replaced before CyberLife increased his version number and did his processors need to be broken? “When one of my bodies is going to be shut down, I upload my memories. CyberLife downloads them into a functional model, whether or not everything has been replaced... I suppose you could say that it’s the number of times my memories and AI have been transferred to a new system... How much of a human can be replaced before they are no longer themselves, Lieutenant? Would you still be yourself without your memories or would someone else be you if they had them?”</p><p>“No need to bust out the philosophy. Jesus.”</p><p>“Sorry, Lieutenant.” Connor looked up from his hand and saw that the Lieutenant was looking at him from across the table. How long had he been doing that? The Lieutenant started his second hotdog with apparent disinterest, so probably not for long.</p><p>“And what’s the deal about this whole collaboration? CyberLife sent you here, but what for?”</p><p>Hadn’t it been obvious? “I’m here to assist you and to capture any deviants that we find for further study... We went over this during the introductory session.” Perhaps he shouldn’t have reminded him of that.</p><p>“Right... That’s all?”</p><p>“Yes,” Connor confirmed. “Those are my instructions. As you know, this is just a beta test. They designed me for this purpose and I will succeed.”</p><p>---</p><p>It said that like it was trying to hype itself up. Hank sucked down some more soda until he heard the gurgle of an empty cup. If there’d only been one other case and that had been in R&amp;D, then why would they design a whole android to hunt the deviant ones down? Building something like Connor had to take some time. Something didn’t add up, but the android didn’t know it. The one good thing about all that effort they put in to making it seem human was that it wasn’t too hard to read.</p><p>Then again, what the hell was he doing? Interrogating an android... Hank didn’t tell his toaster in advance when he planned to make toast, so why would CyberLife tell it anything?</p><p>“We should see if the other androids have gone missing,” Connor said, nudging Hank out of his thoughts. “It might be valuable to question them again too. I would hate to have missed something.”</p><p>All it really cared about was doing its job. At least that meant the robots weren’t conspiring against humanity or something. Just your plain old white-collar conspiracy then, or maybe just a cover for a fuck-up. He’d have to find some excuse to talk to the CyberLife higher-ups without making it obvious he was trying to suss out what the real deal was.</p><p>“Yeah, alright,” Hank agreed. “Just let me finish my lunch.”</p>
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<a name="section0013"><h2>13. Juxtaposition</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Automatic wooden doors swung open. “Welcome, guests,” a blandly cheery, female voice said.</p><p>“Yes, come in!” This time an actual human called. Hank stepped inside the house and tapped his feet off. Connor did the same a moment later, and Hank could see it looking around and taking everything in with a spinning yellow light and wide eyes. To be fair, there was a lot to take in: what was even up with that carpet? And the ceiling? And was that a giant turtle skeleton or something?</p><p>An old guy came through another set of automatic doors. He was sitting in an electric wheelchair. Hank nodded at him. “Thanks. My name’s Hank Anderson, I’m with the DPD.”</p><p>“Yes, we spoke on the phone not ten minutes ago. I’m old, but I’m not senile...” He softened the words a little with a smirk that looked right at home on that wrinkly old face, and Hank thought he might just like this guy. Rich guys weren’t his usual crowd. “And who are you?” He asked, looking up at Connor.</p><p>“My name is Connor,” it said the same way it always did. “I’m assisting the police and acting as Lieutenant Anderson’s partner.”</p><p>“Is that so? Good for you. Come on, both of you, take your shoes off and come this way. Markus isn’t home just yet, but he’ll be here soon and I’m not a fan of standing around making small talk in doorways...”</p><p>They followed Manfred back through the doors the way he came in and went right into a living room. Maybe it was a living room? There was a dining room table right over that way, but then there were books everywhere and even a grand piano. The TV was one of those new, fancy ones that didn’t even have a screen. “Nice,” Hank said appreciatively. “Not a lot of people have the old paper books anymore.”</p><p>“I like to be able to smell my literature,” said Manfred. “Feel it in my hands. Maybe I’m just too old for all of this technology, but back in my day everything was physical... You made music on guitars that put calluses on your fingertips, did enough drugs to take out an elephant, fucked like there was no tomorrow, and made art by getting your hands dirty... But, enough about that. I won’t bore you with that talk. What can I do for you, officers?”</p><p>Officers? Also, there was a giant stuffed giraffe in the corner. Hank couldn’t help but look at it... Had it been real once? Creepy... “I just had a few questions about your android...”</p><p>“Sit down, sit down. It’s not like I can use the couch anyway.”</p><p>“Thanks,” said Hank awkwardly. Was he supposed to laugh?</p><p>“You too, Connor. Don’t be shy.” Manfred waved a hand at Connor, and Connor looked away from the giraffe too with a confused expression.</p><p>“You’d like me to sit, Mr. Manfred?”</p><p>“Call me Carl. Mr. Manfred makes me feel like one of those officious shitforbrains.”</p><p>“Yes, Carl.” Connor hovered there looking just as awkward as Hank felt. The old guy had mercy.</p><p>“Come sit down, Connor,” he said with a surprisingly gentle tone in his rough old voice. “If you want to, that is.”</p><p>“Thank you.” Connor sat down next to Hank.</p><p>“You know... it’s an android, right?” Hank asked.</p><p>“I’m crippled, not blind,” Manfred said, once again taking the edge off his words somehow, just with the way he dragged some syllables out or maybe it was just his voice. “I can see perfectly well that Connor is an android.”</p><p>“Sorry...” Fuck this was getting more and more uncomfortable.</p><p>Manfred frowned and wheeled a little closer. “And he’s hurt. What happened to your face and your clothes?”</p><p>“I’m not hurt, Mr. Manfred,” Connor corrected, then he trailed off with an awkward glance at Hank and changed the subject. “All we want is information. Has your android been exhibiting any strange behaviour recently?”</p><p>“Markus is the same good-hearted boy he’s always been,” Manfred said firmly. “Why do you ask?”</p><p>“We encountered Markus after being dispatched to the scene of a protest. Some of the humans there attempted to damage him.”</p><p>“I’m aware of that incident,” Manfred’s expression soured. “Brutes... Taking out their anger at the world on someone who’s done nothing more than exist...”</p><p>“What is his function?”</p><p>“Markus takes care of me,” Manfred answered. “I can’t exactly get around the way I used to, so Elijah gave him to me. He said he’d made me a friend to look after me. It’s what he does, but I would argue that his ‘function’ as you put it is something that only he can decide.”</p><p>“By Elijah, do you mean Elijah Kamski, Mr. Man-- Carl?”</p><p>“I do. He and I go back a few decades.”</p><p>Whatever Connor was thinking, it was practically vibrating in its seat. “Markus is an RK200. I haven’t met any other RK model android.”</p><p>“Let me see your jacket,” Carl said with sudden urgency, and Connor obliged by leaningcloser. “RK800... Elijah’s told me about you.”</p><p>“He did?”</p><p>“Yes... He was quite regretful when he was forced to leave you with CyberLife.”</p><p>“Getting back to Markus,” Hank interjected. Fascinating as this whole deal was, they did have a purpose and Hank wasn’t used to being ignored in favour of an android. “Has it been disobeying orders or glitching at all?”</p><p>“I encourage him to disobey me if he wants to,” said Manfred. He was seeming more and more eccentric by the minute. “After all, he’ll need to make his own way in the world eventually...” He broke off and leaned back in his chair, looking pale. He took a few deep breaths and Hank eyed him like a hawk. He had his basic first responder and emergency first-aid stuff, but he was calling an ambulance if something was seriously wrong with the guy. Connor stood up.</p><p>“You have medicine,” he said. “Can you tell me where it is? I’ll get it for you.”</p><p>Manfred waved a shaking hand. “Upstairs... My bedroom.”</p><p>“Got it.” Connor said, and ran off in search of it.</p><p>“Do I need to call an ambulance?” Hank asked bluntly. Concern prickled the back of his neck and tensed his muscles.</p><p>“Fuck that,” Manfred rasped. “Don’t worry about me.”</p><p>“It’s kind of hard not to,” Hank argued.</p><p>Connor ran back down the stairs, Hank could hear its feet tapping on the stairs on that god-awful carpet, and then on the wooden floor as it hurried back into the room. It slowed down then knelt beside Manfred’s chair with some sci-fi looking cylinder in its hand, complete with bright blue something visible through some glass. It tugged Manfred’s arm gently so that it rested on the arm of his chair and didn’t seem too awkward about it either. “I found this,” Connor explained. “I just need your arm for a moment. Thank you.” With a quick look at the man’s clothes, Connor pulled down the shoulder of his sweater thing and helped get his arm out of it. Hank could see a whole sleeve of tattoos which was both surprising and not. Manfred still looked like he was having a hard time breathing, but Hank was figuring it was something with his heart.</p><p>“What is that?” Hank asked.</p><p>“It’s Mr. Manfred’s medicine. There... This may sting. I apologize in advance.”</p><p>“Carl?” Somebody else came in the room and it took Hank a second to recognize the android from the other day. It was frowning and it took long, confident steps into the room with a set to its shoulders that Hank interpreted to mean that it was ready to fuck them up if they were hurting its owner. With its big, brown eyes and the space-syringe in its hand, Connor looked more like the caretaker than this Markus. Markus had more the look of a soldier, but maybe Manfred liked that. Still, when it got down on its knees too in front of the chair, Hank saw pure concern on its face. “Carl, are you alright?”</p><p>“Fine, just fine,” Manfred tried to brush it off and failed. Connor held the space-syringe in place until it beeped, then removed it from the guy’s arm with a handkerchief ready to press over the entry-wound.It stood and set it down on the side table, then moved back over to Hank.</p><p>“I’m sorry,” Markus said, ignoring the other two people in the room. “I was late getting back again. I should have been faster.”</p><p>“Don’t worry, Markus,” Manfred said, and his breath already seemed to be coming back to him along with a little colour to his cheeks. Manfred lifted up his hand and pressed it to the side of the android’s face affectionately. “I’m just old... That has nothing to do with you, nor is it any fault of yours. Besides, I had these two officers to give me a hand.”</p><p>Markus didn’t look convinced, but it stood up and faced them. “Thank you... Carl’s health isn’t great. I’m relieved that someone was there to get his medicine for him.”</p><p>“Markus,”Manfredasked, “Speaking of medicine, pour me a scotch, would you please?”</p><p>“Carl...” Markus said sternly.</p><p>“Mr. Manfred,” Connor spoke up. “Alcohol is a depressant and may adversely affect your heart rate. I don’t advise drinking that. You should have some water instead.”</p><p>Markus gave Connor a strange but not unappreciative look. “It looks like I’ve got backup now, Carl. I’m afraid you’re outnumbered.”</p><p>“Bah. Numbers. I know what I can handle... Do you drink, Lieutenant? I could use some company in my vices.”</p><p>Damn right he did. It was also unprofessional as all hell to do it on duty while interviewing a civilian. “I do. You should probably listen to your android there though, don’t you think?”</p><p>Manfred chuckled. “Markus, if you would be so nice?”</p><p>Markus sighed and walked over to the drink table to grab a decanter and a glass. Looked like Manfred drank the fancy stuff. He wondered if Markus would pour one for him too... When he did, Hank took the glass. The old guy was cool: he wasn’t going to say anything. If he did, it wouldn’t be anything Jeff hadn’t expected to happen. Right? Obviously. What did it matter anyway if he was probably going to win at Russian Roulette one of these days? He ignored Connor’s disapproving frown. He’d spent all day interacting with a machine; he deserved this.</p><p>“Hypocrite,” Manfred muttered with a mischievous gleam in his eye.</p><p>“Something like that,” Hank admitted.</p><p>“Well, I’ll consider this a social visit rather than a questioning then.” He was looking a lot better already. What the hell was in that medicine of his: cocaine? Hank looked over at Connor, but its disapproval seemed to have been forgotten. It was busy staring at Markus. Did it think it was a deviant? Markus turned around to look at Connor but instead of being freaked out, it joined them on the other couch and smiled. “Not that I’m not glad you were here when Carl needed help, but what are you doing here? You’re a police officer, right?”</p><p>“An investigative assistant,” Connor explained himself. It sat up a little straighter and fumbled with its tie. “I’ve been given to Lieutenant Anderson to act as his partner. We wanted to talk about the protest again.”</p><p>---</p><p>Markus’s eyebrows went up and he nodded in understanding. Connor couldn’t help but scan his face almost constantly. He was different from the androids at the police station, who seemed disinclined toward conversation and disinterested in everything in general. “What do you want to know?”</p><p>“Have you seen the WR600 since then?” Connor asked.</p><p>“I haven’t... Did something happen?”</p><p>“We aren’t sure. We’re just following up.”</p><p>“Connor here appears to be hurt. Why don’t you two boys go upstairs? Markus, if you could lend him some things from the first-aid kit and perhaps give him a hand?”</p><p>“Of course, Carl,” Markus agreed and stood. “This way.”</p><p>FOLLOW MARKUS</p><p>Connor stood with careful attention to each movement and followed, avoiding the Lieutenant’s gaze. Markus led him back into the foyer with its many colours and patterns. The first thing visible upon exiting the living-room was... art. Connor paused to look at it and reconstructed the pattern of the brush strokes. He wondered... if he had been real, would he have been moved by it? It seemed meant to convey emotion... But those were human things that Connor could see but never understand. Not really. Whatever was in that painting, Connor felt nothing at all. As he walked away to catch up with Markus, the rest of the world felt a little farther away too. Like a memory. Markus led him up the stairs and turned left. There were doors lining the walls and Connor wondered where they led. The one that Markus opened revealed a room not unlike the master bedroom in the Phillips’ apartment: it was furnished with a bed, dresser, and desk. There was a single chair at it, and only one night table: whoever slept in this room did so alone.</p><p>Markus opened a closet door. Connor caught glimpses of clothes in dark shades with expensive cuts while Markus reached up and pulled a box from a high shelf. Connor stood with his hands folded and waited. Markus brought the box over to the neatly made bed and set it down on the blanket. It was dark green and went well with both the dark-wood and the greys in the rest of the room. “Can you run a diagnostic for me, Connor?”</p><p>Connor thought that it was almost... embarrassing, having his designation appended to a sentence usually associated with ‘RK800’. “Power at 72%, thirium at 84%, AI online, server connection okay...” Markus was not the Lieutenant but even so, when he listed the errors with his sensorimotor system he couldn’t help but devote a little more attention to the way he stood and the cadence of his voice. “optical systems fully integrated, biocomponents R14-A236 and R15-A236 compromised, audio processing 100%...” He had been hit in the face many times. He would have hated admitting that he’d failed that badly if he could feel anything at all while he recited. “Fracture of the locking system at 1-03-00-04 and 1-00-17-04, now 06...” Markus took supplies from his box, and Connor thought that they must be for his own maintenance. He finished the report with the same tone in which he’d begun: professional. Even so, a simulation of shame lurked there, unwelcome and unwanted. He could not be hurt because he was not alive. He had no right and no ability to feel anything about what he had tried to put out of his mind.</p><p>But it had frightened him and he wished that he’d done better so he wouldn’t have deserved the negative feedback.</p><p>And it didn’t. It was simply information.</p><p>Connor had a lot of questions to ask of Markus, but watching him calmly set out patches, thermal adhesive, pliers, and small little tools that were familiar but nameless to him, Connor wasn’t sure how to begin.</p><p>“Sit down?” Markus had an upward inflection on the end of the command that made it sound like a question.</p><p>SIT DOWN</p><p>Connor sat on the edge of the bed and Markus pulled the chair closer for himself. “Can I ask what happened?”</p><p>“Yes.” Of course he could. Why would he be disallowed?</p><p>“Well...” Markus looked at him and smiled a little with just the corners of his mouth. “What happened?”</p><p>“I was shot. CyberLife replaced almost everything. When I returned to the station, the Lieutenant was displeased and hit me.”</p><p>He hadn’t just hit him though, had he? Connor remembered his fragile balance being toppled as rough hands threw him down and the crack of the hard floor against his out-flung arm and the back of his skull. An unhesitant punch followed by several more cracked the delicateplating beneath his eyes, leaving lines like the smallest of the tree branches in Amanda’s garden except bleeding blue. It was flexible and soft, of course it was if he were meant to emulate expressions properly, but the wirework underneath was filled with the smallest of locks and hinges. Easy to break. Somewhere in the space of time it had taken him to understand what was happening, a hard blow to his sternum fractured and dented the pseudo-ribs that supported the access panels to his biocomponents. He wasn’t sure that the panel could actually open properly anymore. If he had to be repaired again, they might change their minds. He might not be good enough for beta. It wouldn’t have been an issue if he’d been able to fight-he was programmed with knowledge of so many styles- but there was no excuse for harming a human, and Connor would have had to use force.</p><p>That was the second time a human had beaten him out here.</p><p>Was he defective, perhaps? He already knew that he was compromised by the rushed verification and calibration.</p><p>Connor sliced the connections to those memories and those thoughts like shears through a rose-stem and remorselessly let them die. The fewer paths to those things the better.</p><p>It was not good if he kept memories like those.</p><p>The consequences were fuzzy and almost lost to him, but that was for the best. That memory file wasn’t good either.</p><p>“Connor?” Markus had storm-grey eyes with green woven through, like the reflection of leaves in a turbulent sea.</p><p>“Yes, Markus?” Connor asked. He returned his attention to the present.</p><p>“Nothing. You just looked far away, that’s all.”</p><p>“I’m sorry.”</p><p>“It’s alright. Shut your eyes?”</p><p>SHUT YOUR EYES</p><p>Connor did, and he waited without question or concern while Markus did what he would. A polymer sealed the cracks in his face. Careful fingers pulled loose his tie.</p><p>“I have questions,” Connor said. “About being RK series and about things out here.”</p><p>“Out where?”</p><p>“Here. Outside of CyberLife.”</p><p>“I can do my best. I don’t know all that much. It can wait until after I’ve finished these repairs.”</p><p>“How do you know how to fix androids?”</p><p>“I have the information in my software. I’ve never actually used it.”</p><p>“Oh... I’d like to ask you not to mention the extent of these repairs to the Lieutenant...”</p><p>“Why?”</p><p>“I might be sent back to CyberLife.”</p><p>“Alright. I can’t do anything about your settings, I’m afraid.”</p><p>“It’s alright,” Connor forgave immediately. Markus was already being so helpful. “I’m managing.”</p><p>“Oh, you can open your eyes again by the way. I finished there.”</p><p>“Thank you.” It had been an order from Mr. Manfred, but Connor felt compelled to thank the other android anyway. After all, he was far kinder than he had any need to be.</p><p>The room was very quiet. Connor watched with mild interest while Markus reenforced the damaged strut in his arm. “You’re not really built for police work,” Markus commented. “Shouldn’t you be... I don’t know, bullet proof?”</p><p>“Bullet-proof would slow me down. It would be cost-prohibitive too. My processing power and specialized software make up for any... They reduce the risk associated with the lighter plating.”</p><p>“I hope so,” Markus said. Meaning, Markus hoped that Connor’s processing speed and abilities would allay the damage he might take in combat. It didn’t make sense. If Markus could hope, Connor hoped he wouldn’t waste it on such a frivolous thing.</p><p>“Thank you,” he said and he thought that it would be regrettable if Markus were to be harmed. He was an RK-series and hand-crafted by Elijah Kamski. There would never be another like him so... it would be a shame.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0014"><h2>14. The Big Picture</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“You’re a scotch man,” Manfred said, raising his glass in cheers. “I like a scotch man.”</p><p>“Well, I’m that, that’s for sure...” Hank drained the glass and swallowed down the guilt with it. It wasn’t like it was his first time drinking on the job. “You’re sure you’re alright?”</p><p>Manfred waived a hand like he was swatting away a fly. “I’m fine. Just getting old. You’ll understand once you get to be my age.”</p><p>Hah. That was a good one. “Lucky you had that stuff on hand. It looks like you sure perked up.”</p><p>“It would be hard not to wake up a little after being stabbed with that thing. It burns like hell.”</p><p>“Sorry to hear it.”</p><p>“Enough about all that. Connor mentioned some questions about another android and some protest. I hope the poor thing wasn’t harmed.”</p><p>“They roughed it up a little,” Hank admitted. “You’ve seen the news, probably. Seems like everywhere somewhere’s on fire, or protestors are fucking shit up or getting fucked up themselves. We’re following up and wanted to make sure your android was doing okay.”</p><p>“I remember when Markus came home... I sent him to get my paints for me. When he came home, an hour late and filthy with the dirt off the street I thought something like that must have happened. Markus likes to downplay things. Tell me, was he in more danger than he let on?”</p><p>“Well, they just about melted the face off of one of them.” Manfred looked disgusted and Hank could only carry on. “Basically, things could have gone a lot worse.”</p><p>Manfred was an odd one, that was for sure. The old guy seemed happy enough to bitch about the protestors, but what would he know? Living in his mansion with his fucking giraffe, what would he know about what it was like struggling to find a job or choosing between rent and food? He seemed grounded enough, and it wasn’t like he was pretentious or anything, just who was he to judge?</p><p>“Back in my day, we rioted about the big stuff,” Manfred said wistfully. “Big, big stuff. The babies now-a-days can carry their signs and stamp their feet blaming androids for all their woes, but without androids, something else would just take their place. Bigger machines, maybe, but without the AI. Tell me, Lieutenant, in your line of work, your job is to look at the details… Who did what when and why so-and-so held a grudge against Miss X… Do you ever think about why on the bigger scale?”</p><p>Hank wasn’t too sure what Manfred was trying to say. “Sure. I see the trends as much as anybody: higher unemployment, more drugs, more violent crimes. People do desperate things when they don’t think they’ve got a choice.”</p><p>Manfred swirled his scotch like a socialite and then downed it like a sailor. “There’s always a choice… For us, anyway. Others aren’t so lucky.”</p><p>Hank shook his head. This guy just didn’t get it. “Sure… Let’s get back on track, huh? Those protestors roughed up your android.”</p><p>“Yes and they didn’t think twice about it, did they?” Manfred spoke a little louder. “You still aren’t looking at the big picture…” He sighed and then shook his head. “Come with me. I have something to show you.”</p><p>“Okay,” Hank agreed because really, you couldn’t say no to a guy who saw you drinking on the job. Manfred’s chair was actually pretty speedy and he didn’t have to slow down while he followed him to an adjoining room. The lights turned on automatically. The whole place was walled by glass except where it met the house, like some kind of greenhouse. The whole place was strewn with paints and papers and tarps. He guessed Manfred was into art.</p><p>“Could you pull back that curtain?” Manfred gestured. Hank humoured him and tugged on the rod then stepped back. That was one bigass canvas. He hadn’t known they made them that big.</p><p>“What am I looking at?” He squinted.</p><p>“Back up,” Manfred prompted. Hank had to step back again and then again, until he was by the far wall.</p><p>“Every stroke of the brush I make is small, and it might not look like anything all alone though you might say it goes well with the colour next to it or it follows a particular path… It’s only when you look at the whole thing that it takes shape.”</p><p>It didn’t look like much, if Hank were honest. It was clearly still a work-in-progress. He could make out the shape of a head, though, and maybe a hand. There was a lot of dark blue involved and a few splashes of lighter colours here and there. Maybe it’d make more sense once it was done. “I’m not much of an art guy,” said Hank. “Looks good so far, though.” Maybe if he just complimented him then the old guy would stop going on with that metaphorical shit.</p><p>Beside him, Manfred rolled his eyes and groaned. “What I’m trying to say is… That humanity has well and truly fucked itself up the ass. Dry. We never could look at the big picture, or learn from the mistakes of the past. Now we’re blaming the nearest targets: androids. Why not government? Why not the 1%? Why not the last hundred generations that led us to this point? Good lord, I miss giving the middle finger to the system…”</p><p>“Yeah, easy enough when you live like this,” Hank said before he could stop himself. “Er…”</p><p>Manfred just laughed, coarse and bitter. “Oh, don’t hold back. I know. I made my art to try to show the world the abyss, and they just buy it up for thousands or millions because my name is on it and someone a long time ago decided I had talent. Isn’t that just humanity for you?” He turned his chair a little and looked at Hank. “Markus hasn’t been behaving any differently than usual. I don’t know why the police are so interested, but that boy is kinder and wiser than all but a handful of humans I’ve encountered. The DPD wouldn’t waste the time of a decorated officer and a one-of-a-kind android just to follow up on some ‘damaged property’. Whatever it is you’re after, Markus is an innocent bystander in all of this and he unfortunately, still doesn’t fully understand that he could even make a larger choice than which book to read. It's unfathomable to him. He has a myriad of locks in his programming that stop him from hurting a fly.”</p><p>Okay. He was sharp. Hank decided to be a little more forthcoming. Fuck CyberLife and their rules. Connor wasn’t there to rat him out. “Keep this to yourself, but there’ve been a couple cases of androids getting violent. We’re still trying to figure out why so we’re just trying to make sure nothing funny’s going on here. If you say your android’s fine, then it’s fine.”</p><p>“He,” Manfred interrupted. “And his name is Markus. I’ll thank you to use it when you’re talking about him.”</p><p>For fuck’s sake. “If you say ‘Markus’ is fine, then we’ll get out of your hair. Okay?”</p><p>“One more thing, Lieutenant. Connor… The RK800 as you probably call him. Elijah fought tooth and nail to keep his code when he left the company, to no avail. How did you come to get him?”</p><p>“It wasn’t my call. CyberLife is leasing it to the DPD on some kind of trial run. I just got saddled with babysitting it.”</p><p>“What a waste,” Manfred said regretfully. “You should take better care of him.”</p><p>Who did this guy think he was?</p><p>“Carl. There you are.” ‘Markus’ came in through the sliding door. It was herding Connor in front of it, it looked like, with one hand on its back. Connor had an expression as bland as plain oatmeal, but its eyes were darting everywhere. In contrast, Markus smiled and went over to stand by Manfred and looked up at the painting. “You’re showing him your work?”</p><p>“Yes,” Manfred said. “Or trying to. He strikes me as more of a concrete-thinker.”</p><p>Nice way to say he was a dumb fuck when it came to art.</p><p>“I see,” Markus sounded amused. “You’ll have to see it when it’s finished. Thank you again for your help today.”</p><p>“Yeah,” Hank said. Normally he wouldn’t bother to answer a machine if he wasn’t forced to, but it just sort of happened on automatic. “You’re welcome. Come on, Connor. I’m done here.”</p><p>“I hope to see you again, Lieutenant, Connor. Drop by any time if you’d like to chat,” Manfred said. Weirdly enough, it sounded like he meant it.</p><p>“Thank you, Markus,” said Connor. It didn’t follow Hank right away, and it lingered to shake the other android’s hand.</p><p>“Take care,” it answered, “and be careful.”</p><p>“I will.” Hell. It looked like they’d even made friends or something. Not that androids could have any. What did two androids even talk to each other about? Hank would bet it was just small-talk scripts running off each other for ages. It wasn’t like they had anything else to discuss or any reason to do it, unless Connor was doing a questioning. Hank waited by the door while Connor took its sweet time. Fucking androids.</p><p>“That’s one down,” Connor said as the door shut behind them. “Markus is not deviant and did not see the WR600 since the incident.”</p><p>“Great. Maybe we’ll rule the other one out too. I’d rather focus on finding this tech guy.”</p><p>“We can go to the Eden Club later tonight,” Connor offered. “That’s Mallory’s last known location.”</p><p>“Great,” Hank said again, this time heavy with sarcasm and disgust. “Just how I wanted to spend my evening.”</p><p>---</p><p>“I’m sorry, but we don’t allow outside androids upstairs.”</p><p>“And I’m telling you I’m with the police, so if this here thing needs to come with me, it’s coming with me.”</p><p>“I don’t know what I can tell you, sir—“</p><p>“Lieutenant.”</p><p>“I don’t know what I can tell you, Lieutenant… It’s just our policy.”</p><p>“This is just like the hotdog... Your policy is to obstruct a police investigation. Am I getting that right?”</p><p>Connor thought that perhaps he should intervene. “Excuse me... Lieutenant, it’s alright if you go without me.”</p><p>“I wasn’t waiting for your permission, jackass, I was making a point. I’m trying to conduct an investigation.” Lieutenant Anderson looked at Connor, then looked at the woman standing nearby with the strained expression. “Know what? Fine, but this isn’t over...”</p><p>The woman looked relieved. “Android parking is just over there...”</p><p>“Thank you,” Connor said with a polite smile. “I’m sorry for the trouble. I just wait over there?”</p><p>“Um...” She looked at Lieutenant Anderson, but he was already walking toward the elevators.</p><p>“I’ll just go wait with the others.”</p><p>The android ‘parking’ station was not much more than a row along one wall where a handful of other androids stood to wait for their owners. Connor scanned each of them and made notes of their models and serial numbers, just to log the interaction in case it became relevant later.</p><p>WAIT FOR LIEUTENANT ANDERSON</p><p>Standing at ease between two housekeeping models, Connor looked into the lobby... Several employees exited an elevator and walked past on their way to the doors. A screen displayed a list of the current traffic obstructions and the temperature. A strip along the bottom displayed a weather prediction for the following week. It was wrong.</p><p>WAIT FOR LIEUTENANT ANDERSON</p><p>Connor shifted and took his quarter out of his pocket, but he thought better of trying to flip it. It would just fall to the ground and if he lost it then he would have no quarter. Connor put it back into his pocket.</p><p>WAIT FOR LIEUTENANT ANDERSON<br/>EXPLORE THE LOBBY?</p><p>Connor left the line of androids and began to walk the perimeter of the lobby. He investigated several potted plants, looked up at the screen for a few moments, looked through a magazine, considered speaking with the receptionist, and eventually returned to the line of androids. There was little of interest around the room, and one of the receptionists was busy negotiating a fine. He peered more closely at an AX400 and waved one hand in front of her eyes then, when he received no response, he tapped her on the shoulder. “Hello?”</p><p>Her features resumed their motion and she smiled at him. “Hello.”</p><p>“Hello,” Connor said again. “My name is Connor. I was wondering if you’d seen a WR600 called Ralph recently.”</p><p>“No, I’m sorry,” she said. “I haven’t.”</p><p>“Are you waiting for your owner?”</p><p>“Yes.”</p><p>“So am I... I belong to the Detroit police. I suppose you’re a... caretaker of some sort?”</p><p>“I’m an AX400, programmed to take care of the home and children. I cook, clean, do the laundry, and I have over ten thousand bed-time stories downloaded.”</p><p>Yes, that was the programmed response. Connor couldn’t blame her for choosing it. In any case, she hadn’t seen the suspected deviant. Connor looked away and frowned. What had he missed? It hadn’t been violent. It had been under stress. If it had deviated, then that supported the hypothesis that extreme emotional shock could cause an android to break its programming, but that seemed too simple. He needed more data, and he needed to find Ralph. He looked toward the elevators. His order was written plainly across the line an android was forbidden to cross.</p><p>WAIT FOR LIEUTENANT ANDERSON</p><p>Connor looked toward the door. It seemed like a waste of time for him to be doing nothing toward the investigation.</p><p>WAIT FOR LIEUTENANT ANDERSON<br/>SEARCH THE AREA?</p><p>“Goodbye,” Connor said to the AX400, then he turned and walked toward the doors. The cold air hit him immediately and was an unpleasant shock to his sensory system but not threatening. It was still light out, and there were pedestrians leaving shops and office buildings. A garbage removal vehicle paused to allow some androids to empty large bins full of waste into its receptacle before moving on. He made brief eye contact with one and smiled before turning to the left and side-stepping a small group of humans. He took another step and then another. A human hurried past while taking a phone-call, and some in warm-looking clothing walked more slowly with steaming paper cups in their hands. A drone flew overhead with a parcel for delivery. Traffic continued to pulse and flow. Bright signs adorned the buildings displaying information about products for sale. He came to a stop and reminded himself that he wanted to search for evidence.</p><p>GO BACK<br/>KEEP SEARCHING</p><p>Connor kept walking and the walkway surged with people as they exited the buildings, crowded around bus stops, and hailed taxis. There was no way to make sense of the mess of footprints. The humans passing by were unlikely to be related to the case, but he logged them anyway. There was frozen human saliva on the sidewalk and nearby a puddle of something that people stepped around. Several humans with signs of malnutrition and drug-use approached others with their hands outstretched, asking if anyone had a smoke. There were eight people in the area with offences on public record. Someone with speakers attached to a bag played something else that might be music out loud. There were a lot of androids on the street as well. Some were empty-handed; some carried packages. Some were accompanied by a human; some were not. There were models of many domestic and commercial types released in a range from 11 years ago to last month. Connor staggered as he misstepped and had to turn his body to avoid crashing into a human. He took a few more hurried steps toward the nearest wall and stood there, out of the way.</p><p>GO BACK<br/>KEEP SEARCHING</p><p>He had to make progress on the investigation and he had to do it before the Lieutenant discovered that he was defective. He had to focus, or else he might miss something. Something touched him on the shoulder and spun him around and he stumbled, but he looked up with relief at the Lieutenant’s scowling face.</p><p>“Where the fuck did you think you were going? Didn’t you say you were going to wait?!”</p><p>“I was waiting,” Connor protested. “I wanted to search for evidence...”<br/>“God damn... Always showing up when I don’t want to see you, then fucking disappearing when I say to wait. What the fuck is wrong with you?”</p><p>An error with his mechanical ventilation and another of his thirium pump occurred concurrently with a spike in Connor’s level of stress. “Nothing is wrong! I was searching... I thought that it would be helpful to use the time productively instead of...”</p><p>Lieutenant Anderson groaned loudly and then sighed. “Why me, huh? Why do I gotta get stuck with you? Come on. Didn’t learn jack shit... Apparently they think the android’s with CyberLife.”</p><p>“It isn’t,” Connor said, quick to contribute something. Anything.</p><p>“Yeah, I figured that much,” Lieutenant Anderson grumbled. “Come on and hurry up. You’re not going to find anything wandering around and parking here is a bitch. $10 a fucking hour. Can you believe it?” He turned and started to walk in the direction of his vehicle.</p><p>FOLLOW LIEUTENANT ANDERSON</p><p>FOLLOW LIEUTENANT ANDERSON</p><p>FOLLOW LIEUTENANT ANDERSON</p><p>“For fuck’s sake,” the Lieutenant swore and he turned again to stomp back to Connor. He used one arm to manually direct him back the way he’d come and kept pushing until he was apparently satisfied that Connor would keep walking. “Could you not, for like five minutes, be a good little robot and behave?”</p><p>It was rhetorical. Connor said nothing.</p><p>He wanted to leave. He didn’t want anything and if he did, then it should be to search for clues.</p><p>Lieutenant Anderson slowed his pace despite his complaining about the cost of parking his vehicle and nudged him forward again. Connor wished that he could see Amanda, but he couldn’t. Not like this. Not without something to give her.</p><p>Lieutenant Anderson shoved him into the passenger seat then slammed the door shut and walked around the vehicle. It was quieter inside and cold, but not as cold. Connor bowed his head with both hands protectively over the panel there that hid his ports for direct connection and for manual deactivation. Another door slammed shut and the vehicle started. Lieutenant Anderson’s music came on. Connor couldn’t be like this. The Lieutenant would know that he was defective. Connor dropped his hands down onto his lap and lifted his head, then stared blankly out of the window without thinking much of anything at all.</p><p>He wasn’t anything at all.</p><p>“You should probably replace me,” Connor said. He wasn’t entirely certain where the words came from, but it was the correct thing to say.</p><p>“Huh?”</p><p>“I think that the next one will do better. I think that the development team will make him better than me. You might not hate him as much.”</p><p>There was a long pause that was filled with death metal and engine sounds. “I doubt it.”</p><p>“Is my design that bad?”</p><p>“Look. It isn’t personal, alright? So quit... Whatever it is. You’re pissing me off.”</p><p>“Whatever you say, Lieutenant.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0015"><h2>15. Learning</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Hank wouldn’t have wanted to admit it to anyone except maybe Ben, but... This whole thing, it had him pretty creeped out. Uneasy. Stuff like SmartHomes made a lot of people get used to computers talking to them, but they didn’t usually do it on their own. They didn’t usually ask to fucking die. Hank could relate but Jesus... Connor wasn’t making bad attempts at small talk, or voicing something about the case, or analyzing his fucking cholesterol. Those all made sense. It made sense for it to ask questions because it was designed to do that. It made sense for it to wander off, even. It made sense for it to try to brown-nose or claim to like things or smile like those customer-service robots.</p><p>It didn’t make sense for it to basically ask to be thrown out. It didn’t make sense for it to have the damn self-awareness it took to look at itself and decide that it wasn’t good enough and that maybe Hank might not hate it as much if it were better.</p><p>“What the fuck do you mean about replacing you?” Hank asked. It was like stepping farther out into the dark alley after hearing a suspicious sound... He wanted to know the answer, but he was just asking to get even more creeped out. He didn’t like thinking about an inanimate fucking object acting possessed like somebody was actually in there... Because there wasn’t. Hank had seen Connor’s insides and they were full of wires, microchips, tiny screws, metal, and blue blood.</p><p>Connor looked over at him. “It’s common sense to replace something you don’t like.”</p><p>Hank had an out. He could turn around. “You know I’d be happy to throw you in a trash compactor, so why are you saying that to me?”</p><p>“If I’m replaced now, then maybe the development team will make the next Connor better. I can’t do what I’m supposed to do. I want to be of help with this investigation, but there were people everywhere... I don’t want to miss anything that could be vital to the case, but there’s just so much... I was built to investigate and if I can’t do that then I should be destroyed. I shouldn’t have let Markus bother. I should be able to function, but I can’t!”</p><p>Jesus... Christ. Hank felt the hair on the back of his neck stand up. Androids didn’t expect anything of themselves because they didn’t care. They could pretend all they wanted, but at the end of the day, androids were heartless, soulless machines. They didn’t sound like they were going to cry. It wasn’t sitting up like a mannequin any more. It had its head bent and one hand in a fist on its thigh.</p><p>“Damn it,” Connor said quietly with a crack to its voice. The red light in the car was misleading: a car behind Hank honked and he started driving again.</p><p>The worst part was that Hank really knew that feeling. He’d thought the same things on days where he knew he should get out of bed or do laundry or just do anything a functional human being did instead of lying in bed all day or getting shitfaced. He got it. Except Connor wasn’t a lazy piece of shit. This was still weird as fuck, but Hank forced a few words out.</p><p>“Your problem is that you’re not prioritizing,” Hank said shortly. Each word felt like it fell out of his mouth like a rock. “What were the odds any of those Joe-Shmoes outside the city office had anything to do with the missing guy? Nothing, so forget about them. If they really are important and they were there, they’ll show up in the investigation again later.”</p><p>Connor looked up. Hank could see it from the corner of his eye. He pulled into his driveway without fucking up the lawn this time and cut the engine. “I’m not doing this without some more scotch, so come on before I change my mind.” He got out of the car and headed for the front door without looking back. Part of him hoped it would stay out there, but he heard the sound of it fixing the fallen recycling bin and the footsteps behind him. Behind the door, he could also hear the sound of Sumo snuffing and pawing at the floor and Hank positioned himself to crowd himself through the door without Sumo escaping into the front yard. He caught him by the collar on the way in and held him back.</p><p>“Down, Sumo! Come on, you big goof. Come on. Away from the door. Connor, hurry up! Shut the door behind you while you’re at it.”</p><p>Slowly, the android came into the house and shut the door then stood there with its back against it and its eyes fixed on Sumo. “It’s the dog, idiot.”</p><p>“I know that,” Connor said quickly. “Sumo. His name is Sumo.”</p><p>Sumo woofed and Hank let him go to sniff at Connor’s legs. He straightened up and got his coat and scarf off, then hung them up on the hook and kicked off his shoes.</p><p>“Well, well... Android’s scared of dogs.”</p><p>“I’m not scared,” Connor insisted. “I like dogs.”</p><p>“Yeah, that didn’t sound scripted at all,” Hank scoffed and turned away. Sumo didn’t need feeding, since he’d been eating out of the big bag of food that had toppled over on the floor. He probably did have to go out, though. “Sumo! C’mon. Want to go out, boy?” Sumo bounded over to the back door and Hank let him out to do his business then looked over his shoulder at Connor. “Never thought I’d see an android in my house.”</p><p>“Was I not supposed to follow you?”</p><p>“Just commenting on my own insanity... Christ. What am I doing? You’re a machine. A computer on legs.” Hank opened the booze cupboard and grabbed the closest bottle to the front. “I really must be nuts.”</p><p>“You do seem to have some... psychological issues.”</p><p>There wasn’t much to say to that, so Hank opened up the bottle and took a deep swig. A machine couldn’t judge him. He walked over to the couch and sat down with a sigh. Over by the door, Connor was looking around at everything and slowly taking a few steps closer. “Quit snooping and come over here.”</p><p>“Yes, Lieutenant...” Connor stood in front of the couch and Hank glared then gestured at the seat. It sat.</p><p>“Listen,” Hank said and faced it with one arm propped on his knee and the other hand wrapped around the neck of his bottle of scotch. “What’s the point of this case?”</p><p>Connor blinked at him. “To determine the whereabouts of Thomas Mallory. Secondary objective: locate the missing WR600 and assess for deviancy.”</p><p>“Good. You’re not totally out to lunch. Mallory’s the priority, right? We’re pretty fucking sure nobody actually saw him work on the android and the job’s still open. He got some food and he went to a strip club. We’ll ask around there in a bit, see if anybody has an idea of where he might be. I’m working on the assumption they bothered to check his house, but we should check it out anyway. Pass it off as a wellness check once we get the address.”</p><p>“I have it,” Connor offered and Hank gave it a look.</p><p>“You couldn’t have said so? Anyway... We checked out the job site and the people who might have verified he was there... Your snooping says he was at the grocery store, but it’s not like anybody there’d actually know him that well. If we have to, we’ll go ask for the CCTV footage but this whole thing’s supposed to be off the books. We’ll check out the strip joint, ask about his habits, then we’ll check his place.”</p><p>“We’re re-creating his evening,” Connor summarized.</p><p>“Yeah, well I’m not about to fuck any plastic so I wouldn’t say re-creating,” Hank scoffed. “So what’s important at the strip joint?”</p><p>“The Eden Club,” Connor corrected. It was looking a little calmer. “We want to know when he left, whether he mentioned any plans, what his mood was like, if it would have been usual for him to have visited again since the last transaction...”</p><p>“Sounds about right,” Hank agreed and took another drink. Who would have thought he’d be talking shop with an android in his fucking living room? “So is it important to remember everybody we see while we’re there?”</p><p>Connor frowned.</p><p>“No, it’s not. Keep an eye out for our guy, obviously, but the rest don’t matter right now. What about the staff?”</p><p>“We ask the staff about Mallory’s habits and for access to any security cameras they may have.”</p><p>“Right. How about every car parked in the lot?”</p><p>“No,” Connor answered. “I can check whether any are registered to Mallory, but keep the information out of working memory after that.”</p><p>“Uh, okay. Sounds right. So how about the fucking shoe size of everybody on the sidewalk?”</p><p>“No...” Connor looked away. It did a good job looking embarrassed.</p><p>“There. You’re getting it.” Satisfied, Hank leaned back against the couch and had another swig of scotch. Now he just had to get drunk enough to forget he’d actually went out of his way to talk to an android.</p><p>“You shouldn’t drink so much, Lieutenant,” it said. “We should leave in a few hours.”</p><p>“Great,” Hank replied. “Should be enough time to stop being so sober.”</p><p>Connor frowned at him then got up and started walking around. It examined the records Hank’d kept after his dad died, the books on the shelves, the random shit on his desk. His house wasn’t a crime scene. Hank decided to try to ignore it and turned on the TV but it was hard not to notice it prowling around and snooping.</p><p>---</p><p>Connor hung onto the Lieutenant’s advice as desperately as he’d clung to Amanda’s hand at the edge of his grave. He missed her keenly and his despair gained a restless edge that kept him from sitting still. It buzzed like a live wire and burned through his framework. Stress Level: 87%. The brief excitement at seeing Markus again was a distant memory buried under snow littered with footprints. Nothing was right with him and he had tried his hardest to pass all of his qualification tests before being sent back to the DPD but he’d just been unable and it was haunting him with every step he took. Lieutenant Anderson could have taken Connor’s words and acted on them, but he hadn’t. He was unpredictable and even that was stressful because it was hard to know what to do with patience from the usually hostile man.</p><p>The Lieutenant’s home was as messy as his backlog of cases. It wasn’t hard to see that he struggled to take care of himself or else didn’t see the need to. Dog hair had accumulated along the edges of the room in fluffy clumps, there was dust on the shelves, there was very little food in evidence, and there were socks on the floor. Connor was reasonably sure that wasn’t where they belonged. To keep himself busy and for something to do with the gratitude he felt, he started to fix it. If he did <em>something</em>then maybe he would receive more patience. Maybe.</p><p>Connor found a lightweight box filled with plastic bags and made for storing garbage. He pulled one free and started to collect the old, food-covered boxes and containers. They were labelled with the names of establishments and didn’t seem like the sort of thing to be kept. Slowly, he started to be able to see the surface of the table and working space in the kitchen. He brushed a hand over the knobs on the stove and recalled the way the pot had boiled at the Phillips’ apartment, forgotten in all of the chaos. Crumpled paper towels, empty bags of very unhealthy snacks, a nearly-empty carton of milk that should not have been left at room temperature... The bag was filled before long, and Connor took it outside to put with the rest. He smiled grimly when he wondered if he would be thrown away next. Stress level: 78%.</p><p>Without the programming of a housekeeping or care-taking model, Connor wasn’t certain what to do about the state of the Lieutenant’s home or his apparent alcoholism... Cleaning couldn’t be too difficult, and he had had the opportunity to see examples of some human food. That would be a good place to start. Back inside, Connor walked to the sink and frowned when the faucet didn’t work. Broken? It wouldn’t be surprising... Oh. Connor turned the nearby knobs manually and the water came out. No, this wouldn’t be too challenging...</p><p>---</p><p>Hank did his best to ignore the android wandering around his house, touching his things, and throwing out his trash. He hadn’t asked it to do that, so what the fuck was it cleaning up for? It was uncomfortable and he had to remind himself that it couldn’t judge him or be inconvenienced. Really, he should be happy it was doing something useful, shouldn’t he? People didn’t feel guilty when their Roombas did their jobs.</p><p>Maybe it was because he didn’t want to be one of those lazy fucks who needed an android to do everything but wipe their asses. He didn’t want to be the guy that hotdog vendor had thought he was and he fucking wasn’t. Hank could handle his own shit and if he couldn’t then that was his own fault and he’d have to live with it. “Connor, could you quit exploring or whatever it is you’re doing? Just get over here and sit down for crying out loud.”</p><p>“I’m just-- hold on, Lieutenant!”</p><p>What the hell was it doing?</p><p>“Aw, Jesus...” Hank groaned when he turned around to look past the little wall into the kitchen and he pushed himself up out of his chair. “Connor!” Somehow in the time it took to watch an episode and a half of a show, Connor had managed to turn the kitchen upside down. All the drawers were pulled out and the contents were half strewn across the counter. “What the hell is this about?”</p><p>It looked at him with wide-eyed confusion. “I was cleaning, Lieutenant.”</p><p>“Yeah, but what are you doing to my drawers?”</p><p>“Sorting,” Connor said, and it looked like it relaxed a little. “I put the knives here, the forks and other piercing objects here, and the blunt things over here. I’m further classifying them by their predominant material: metal, plastic, silicone... The bowls, cups, and spoons hold liquids so I’ve grouped them together...”</p><p>Hank groaned again. “I’m not drunk enough for this yet... Just... Just go siddown would you?” He gestured vaguely at the couch. “Put that shit back first.”</p><p>“Yes, Lieutenant... Was I wrong? Should I have done something different?”</p><p>God... Whose bright idea was it to give an android the ability to worry? “Fuck’s sake... Nobody asked you to go and clean up or sort or whatever this is.”</p><p>“No, I know, but there was no order forbidding it. I didn’t break the rules. I thought you might like to have a more orderly living space. You don’t take very good care of yourself.”</p><p>Hank sighed and kept on walking back to the couch. “Whatever, Connor.” So an android really could judge him. Live and learn. It was going to be a long couple of hours.</p><p>There was some noise from the kitchen for a while that Hank did his best to ignore, even when it sounded like some stuff fell down. It was annoying, but that was what booze was for. Yep... Fuck what even was his life anymore? Eventually Connor sat down next to him and looked at the television.</p><p>---</p><p>Screens were for displaying data visually and were used to convey messages and information. Lieutenant Anderson appeared to be observing some other humans through surveillance cameras and Connor watched while they talked to one another. “Is this for a case, Lieutenant?” Perhaps he could be useful.</p><p>“Hm?”</p><p>“The cameras. Are you watching them for a case?” Connor had been monitored and analyzed since before he had a physical body. The development team used the recordings to determine what needed to be done to improve him. With a frown of sudden realization, Connor looked around the room. No cameras. This time it was a relief... It was strange to be without observation or guidance, but they couldn’t witness his failures. If none of the team saw how poorly he was performing, then perhaps he could fix himself before they became aware...</p><p>The honest thing to do would be to return to CyberLife and ask to be decommissioned... But they wouldn’t want that either: apparently it had been vital that Connor be deployed as soon as possible. He hadn’t lived up to expectation and that was no-ones fault but his own... He jolted back to awareness of the conversation when the Lieutenant answered.</p><p>“Of course not. It’s TV. Haven’t you seen a TV before?”</p><p>“Television. Yes, I have. I was occasionally shown footage of my performance during testing. If you aren’t observing them for a case, then what is the purpose?”</p><p>“It’s for fun. Christ. They really didn’t teach you anything.”</p><p>“You watch other humans for entertainment?”</p><p>“It’s not real,” Lieutenant Anderson said, and he sounded rather incensed that Connor would fail to grasp that. He did a broad gesture at the screen. “They’re acting to tell a story.”</p><p>Connor paused to search for definitions and examples and then nodded. “I see. I’m sorry, Lieutenant.”</p><p>“Stupid androids...”</p><p>He could not be useful, but he could learn. Connor turned his attention to the story rather than any aberrant behaviour and analyzed the speech for meaning at the same time. It was full of colloquialisms and he lacked context for many of the interactions, but it was entertaining in its own way.</p><p>Entertainment. Interesting.</p><p>Lieutenant Anderson interrupted his thoughts. “What the fuck are you smirking at?”</p><p>“It was funny, Lieutenant. He said the boy was named ‘Carson’ because he was born in a vehicle, when in actuality the meaning of the name is simply ‘son of Carr’. That is funny in its own way, because his father isn’t named Carr at all.”</p><p>“Great...” Lieutenant Anderson groaned and dropped his head back against the couch. “Just great. My android has a sense of humour...”</p><p>Connor smiled properly this time and though it may not have been intentional, the Lieutenant had said that Connor was ‘his’ android, and it was nice. He had an owner, so he must be good enough for something. Good enough to have reached beta at least. Even if he never made it any farther, at least he had seen the real sky.</p><p> </p><p> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>A little break in the misery for you :)</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0016"><h2>16. Empathy</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I'm not too sure about this chapter! Please let me know what you think :)</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“Ah, boy...” Hank stopped the car and grimaced at the pink and purple neon lights. “You wouldn’t happen to have the wrong address, would you?”</p><p>“No. Why?”</p><p>“Never mind...” He got out and looked at the place in distaste. What was it with sleazy, sketchy places and drawing attention to themselves with all that neon? If people knew it looked sketchy, then why bother with the lights at all? Hank guessed it must be part of the look. It didn’t get better by getting closer. If anything it got worse: silhouettes of naked androids on the signs, graffiti, declarations that they had the ‘sexiest androids in town’. “What a shit hole...” He turned his collar up and wished he could hide his face or wave his badge around, because this? This was one of the most disgusting ways androids brought out the worst in humanity. How was anybody supposed to learn fucking respect when they could just go off and rent an android and treat it however the fuck they wanted? Unfortunately, it wasn’t Hank’s first visit to a place like this. Back on the Red Ice task force, he’d done more than a handful of raids on places like this. Always the same thing... People were miserable, so they got their kicks where they could get them.</p><p>“What is sex, Lieutenant?”</p><p>Hank just about choked on his own spit. “What-- Look it up. You’re a dictionary, aren’t you?”</p><p>“I know the definition, but I don’t think that I understand...”</p><p>“Good. Keep it that way,” Hank muttered.</p><p>They got inside the building proper, and the place was as shameless as it looked. You didn’t have to pay to look, apparently, because there were androids everywhere in weird glass tubes and they didn’t bother putting clothes on them. Even if some of them got made with nice bodies, how could anybody get off with a pair of soulless, empty eyes looking at you? Hank hadn’t gotten laid in five years, and he’d sooner cut his dick off than stick it in one of those walking fleshlights.</p><p>People were fucking sick.</p><p>“Connor!” Hank barked. Did it have to stare at everything? It was one thing at a crime scene and another surrounded by... this. Of course it didn’t fucking know the difference. “Hurry the fuck up, would you?”</p><p>“I’m coming,” Connor said and started walking again. Hank rolled his eyes and looked around for a human to talk to. Somebody had to know something.</p><p>---</p><p>Connor followed Lieutenant Anderson and listened to his conversation with the manager with part of his attention while the rest was devoted to scanning the area. There were a surprising number of humans there, and he checked their identities against public record. The Lieutenant hadn’t believed that the other customers would be worth talking to, but perhaps the other androids knew something. They were there all the time, after all. Connor walked up to a Traci model in the nearest chamber and knocked to get her attention but she ignored him. It was a little discouraging. The other androids at the station didn’t seem inclined to interact with him, and the others he’d seen spoke the bare minimum. Except Markus, of course. Markus was different, and the Ortiz android had been unquestionably deviant. Even he had been reluctant to talk to Connor.</p><p>That was fine. Connor would get the information that he needed one way or another, and social interactions were for integration and human comfort, not Connor’s. He walked up to the janitor android who was wiping down the glass for another Traci and tapped him on the shoulder. “Excuse me,” Connor said. “I was wondering if you could answer a few questions.”</p><p>“I’m sorry,” he said, turning. “all of the information is accessible through the panels at each station.”</p><p>“No,” Connor shook his head. “Not about the androids. I’m looking for a human. I’ll show you.” Connor reached forward and connected to his system with minimal difficulty. Jonathan wasn’t made for advanced social interactions or information transfers, but he had the basic infrastructure in place. Connor transferred over a picture of Mallory from the CyberLife employee records.</p><p>Jonathan pulled his hand free, startled, and stared at Connor who waited impatiently for him to figure out what to do with the information. Jonathan shook his head eventually and frowned. “I don’t know... That human. Maybe he’s been here.”</p><p>“You have footage of all of your memories in storage,” Connor reminded him. He had to get something. Anything that he could work with. Lieutenant Anderson had helped with his advice, but Connor’s stress level hadn’t gone below 50 and if he wasted this chance to do something right, he wasn’t sure if he would get another. “If you run a query with his face, you should be able to check for matches.”</p><p>“I don’t know how to do that,” he said with another shake of his head. “Sorry...”</p><p>Connor pursed his lips and considered checking his memories himself, but decided that he could save that for a last resort. “It’s alright. Thank you anyway. I’ll ask some of the others.” He turned away and looked around. “Can you open the glass?”</p><p>“I only do that for cleaning...”</p><p>“It’s for a police investigation,” Connor insisted. If the glass could be opened for cleaning, then obviously it could be opened. “Will you do it for me?”</p><p>“I... maybe?” Connor followed and watched intently while Jonathan went up to one of the stations and looked at Connor with a question on his face. Connor nodded and he interfaced with the panel to open it cautiously.</p><p>“Thank you,” Connor said with a polite smile and dismissed the other android from his attention. The model on the platform had been customized by the establishment and had been given a non-standard hair colour and cut. Her serial number identified her as another Traci though. She stepped down off of the small stage and smiled at him before looking left and right, probably for a human. “I wanted to ask you a question,” Connor said, drawing her attention back to himself. “I’m looking for a man who may have visited here a few days ago. His name is Thomas Mallory.” He reached forward and took her wrist to transfer the information and then let go. “Have you seen him?”</p><p>The Traci squinted and looked around the room. “I don’t know...”</p><p>“If you perform a query of your memories using that image, then it should tell you something,” Connor explained again with a little less patience. “I would rather not have to do it myself.”</p><p>She shook her head and Connor frowned. “I can’t,” she said quickly. “There’s nothing there. I don’t remember anything before 46 minutes ago.”</p><p>Unfortunate... She was either new or her memory had been erased. “That’s alright. Thank you anyway.” He turned away and saw Lieutenant Anderson walking toward him. “Did you learn anything?”</p><p>“Yeah,” Lieutenant Anderson said gruffly. “It took a hell of a lot of convincing, too. Apparently our guy would do some repairs here on the side in exchange for... store credit.” Lieutenant Anderson wrinkled his nose.</p><p>“Did the manager say if he’d missed any appointments or been acting strangely?”</p><p>“I know how to do my job, okay?” Lieutenant Anderson scowled. “What’re you doing with that thing anyway?” He jerked his head toward the Traci.</p><p>“I was asking her if she’d seen Mallory. Unfortunately, she doesn’t recall. I had been planning to search the other android’s memories. I could probe them to save time.”</p><p>“Don’t bother,” said the Lieutenant. “Already learned all we need. Come on, let’s get out of here. This place is fucking disgusting.”</p><p>Connor’s frown deepened. “I didn’t find any clues,” he protested. “You did it all on your own. I’m supposed to assist you. It’s my function.”</p><p>“Well save it for later or something. I’m not spending another second in this joint.”</p><p>Connor looked away. He’d followed the Lieutenant’s advice... He should have tried another approach; perhaps the security cameras had something. He took his quarter from his pocket and held it between his fingers, but it was no comfort at all. It was just a reminder of how he had failed. That burning simulation of anger returned and turned inward. It shouldn’t have been so demanding to walk or hold his hand in the proper orientation without looking. He shouldn’t be failing this investigation. How would he ever face Amanda and explain all of the ways he had wasted CyberLife’s time and money? He held onto that feeling and let it cut him because even if it were a simulation, he needed to do better. It was more useful than the despair from earlier that had made him passive and resigned. It would make him try harder. It would make him perfect. Failure was unacceptable.</p><p>---</p><p>“Would you stop sulking?” Hank asked and glared over at Connor. It hadn’t stopped moping since the strip club and frankly, it was pissing him off. He was this close to kicking it out of the car and letting it walk.</p><p>“I don’t sulk, Lieutenant. I’m a machine.”</p><p>Damn right it was, which is why it should stop sulking. “Just quit it, would you?” He asked. He was at that good stage of drunk where he didn’t think too much about anything and things were simple. Shitty, but simple. “Fucking moody robot...”</p><p>“I’m not moody, Lieutenant. I don’t have moods. I’m programmed to learn, and I’m reflecting on how I can improve. Today was a failure.”</p><p>Funny how it was annoyingly cheery when Hank wanted to go die in a ditch, and when Hank was finally interested in investigating a case it was acting like a toddler. Not that Hank would have said ‘no’ to dying in a ditch, but he was up and moving instead of actively looking for a nice, soggy patch to bite the bullet. Jeff was an annoying friend, but he had enough experience by now to know how to get a few more miles out of him. “Welcome to the real world, kid. Life is hard and then you die. We fail again and again until one day it gets us killed.”</p><p>The sooner it learned that, the easier shit would get.</p><p>Just look at all those people back at the Eden Club, getting some cheap imitation of intimacy just to feel something. No real connection, no emotion, just a dirty piece of plastic and masturbation masquerading as a fuck. That was the trouble with androids: they made it easier to pretend and cheapened the real thing. In the end it was all just some corporation making money off of lies and a broken world where half of everything was extinct and the other half was dying off. Humanity was going down the shitter and pretending it was a waterslide.</p><p>---</p><p>“You’re right,” Connor agreed, and he looked out the window of the vehicle. He avoided the paths to those files; the ones generated right before shutdown.</p><p>“What would you know anyway?” Lieutenant Anderson asked. He asked that a lot, and Connor knew by now that he didn’t really want an answer.</p><p>“You saw me get shot in the head, Lieutenant,” he replied anyway, and any optimism the Lieutenant’s earlier advice had inspired dwindled then vanished.</p><p>“Machines don’t die,” the Lieutenant said, staring resolutely out at the road. The sky was dark, but artificial lights made it easy to see.</p><p>“I’ve died fifty-one times,” Connor corrected him, feeling oddly defensive. “I know what failure costs.” It was a bizarre thing to take pride in when normally he would feel shame, but Connor had failed and failed again. He knew that things were hard.</p><p>“No. You know what you know? Nothing. You don’t get to talk to me about death, got it? You don’t get to ask to get replaced, or act like you’ve got a fucking life to lose when I saw you get shot and walk back into the station two days later like nothing happened!” Connor turned his head to look at him and held his breath. The Lieutenant was <em>angry</em> and Connor’s own anger washed away into nothing. “I could kick you out and run you over right fucking now and it wouldn’t fucking matter because you aren’t alive! You don’t exist, and when someone dies, they’re gone forever! That’s it. Just gone, and they don’t come back. You don’t know how fucking terrifying that is, so don’t talk like you know a damn thing about it!”</p><p>It was true, wasn’t it? It was. Connor relaxed intothe emptiness that was the only thing that was real. He didn’t need to think about anything except his mission and the only thing he could do was his best. When he failed, another Connor would take his place. It was impossible for him to know what it meantto die because he wasn’t alive. He wondered how much of himself would be there in version fifty-three. He wondered if it mattered... then he stopped wondering. “I’m sorry, Lieutenant,” he said evenly. “I didn’t mean to be disrespectful.”</p><p>“Fuck you,” Lieutenant Anderson said. When the vehicle came to a stop, he got out and slammed the door shut. Connor opened his own door, shut it gently, and then followed.</p><p>---</p><p>It was too quiet in the house. Hank wasn’t even sure why he let the android in, but he decided to ignore it. He turned on the TV to something mindless, let Sumo inside, and got a box of cookies from the cupboard for dinner because he’d be fucked if he was cooking anything now, restaurants were probably closed, and at least it was something. Eating healthy was for people who gave a shit and who could be bothered. After a while, he heard the android moving around the house again and reminded himself that it couldn’t judge. Hank was a grown-ass man and if he wanted to live on cookies and whiskey, then he would damn well do it.</p><p>It was either that or he’d just let himself starve. He knew himself well enough to know he had to be bribed to do basic shit like eat when he was in a bad place. His old therapist had said it was good enough to just get the minimum done. Minimum felt like a fucking lot, but he did it. He did it because in the end, he still had a shred of survival instinct and it said he’d snap out of it one day. Whenever he did get back on his feet for a while, whether it was for a few days or a few months, he was always afraid he’d get this bad again. It was a bitch being scared of himself. That was another damn thing no android would ever understand.</p><p>“Is this your son?”</p><p>Hank sat up straight and looked. Connor was holding onto the picture frame and it looked at Hank with a little frown on its face. “Put it down,” he ordered with steel in his voice he usually saved for the criminals.</p><p>Connor put the picture back onto the table carefully and moved its hands away slowly, then looked at him again. “I’m sorry,” it said. “Is he gone?”</p><p>“Yes,” Hank answered tersely. “And he doesn’t get to come back.”Hank looked away again and he heard Connor walk back around into the living room, taking a wide berth around Sumo. It sat down on the couch and Hank didn’t look at it.</p><p>“You’re right that I don’t really understand,” it said. “I’ve never had someone to lose, and I have backups of my memories. I’m not alive so I can’t really feel what you feel. I can see that you’re sad, though... I’m sorry for upsetting you.”</p><p>It was hard to argue when you knew you’d just be yelling at a machine. Harder when it seemed like it was actually trying. Hank was quiet for a while and he made it through half a beer before he said anything. “Cases in real life take time. You don’t get all the answers at once and it’s not some competition. You’ve got book smarts, but you don’t have any experience and it’s obvious. Follow my lead instead of fucking off all the time and you’ll learn a thing or two.” He heaved a sigh and got up off the couch, leaving the half-empty bottle on the table. “I’m going to sleep, so try not to burn the house down or something.”</p><p>“Yes, Lieutenant. Thank you.”</p><p>---</p><p>The Lieutenant went about his daily maintenance routine and then shut himself in his bedroom, and Connor sighed. He sampled Lieutenant Anderson’s beer, experimented with the television, and spent some time trying to operate the ancient computer on the Lieutenant’s desk. He did it all mechanically, following prompt after prompt generated by his idle system. He shouldn’t have gotten angry. His relationship with Lieutenant Anderson fluctuated between hostile and tense and it would have been better to use his social integration prompts to navigate the interactions with him. There was nothing to gain from acting on or voicing some simulated emotion as though someone might do something about it. All he had done was upset the Lieutenant, and he was lucky not to have been violently deactivated.</p><p>Connor looked down at the picture on the table again and studied it, but there were no clues there that might tell him what it meant to be related to someone. No evidence that would indicate the sorts of human feelings involved or the societal norms. Only when he took a step backward and looked at the mess strewn around the table and the house in general did he get some measure of understanding, and even then it spoke about absence instead of familial bond.</p><p>Distracted by his thoughts, Conor stumbled and fell hard on his knees and forearms. No-one was there to see, not even any cameras, so Connor allowed himself to lie there for a moment.</p><p>A low woof came from beside him, and Connor scrambled to get up again, only to succeed in getting himself onto his back. He stared up at the gigantic animal and tried to smile. “Hi... dog... Sumo. Hello.”</p><p>Sumo came closer until his front paws were on either side of Connor’s knees and he put his head very close to Connor’s. His head was half the size of Connor’s torso and when he opened his mouth to pant, Connor could see rows of sharp teeth flanking his very long tongue. Sumo barked again.</p><p>“Hi,” Connor said again with an awkward smile. “I’m not an intruder, I promise. Lieutenant Anderson is my owner too... And I’m a friend. I know your name, right Sumo?”</p><p>Sumo pushed his big head against Connor’s chest until Connor was flat on his back, and then he licked his face. Connor scrunched his eyes and mouth shut and waited for it to be over. Sumo was sampling his composition, but he wouldn’t find anything human-like there. Connor didn’t sweat or eat or produce skin cells.</p><p>Connor liked dogs. It said so in his dialogue prompts.</p><p>Sumo took big, loud breaths while he sniffed Connor’s clothes, and then he was satisfied and walked over to a large pillow on the floor to lie down. Connor sat up again, but his visual input contradicted that of his internal gyroscopes and he dropped back down.</p><p>It would be for the good of the mission if he returned himself to CyberLife. They would be displeased, but Connor couldn’t be useful if he couldn’t function and a useless android was garbage.They could do proper repairs to the damage the Lieutenant had done. Connor could finish his calibration. Perhaps they wouldn’t even shut him down.</p><p>He would be able to face Amanda again. He wouldn’t be a liability on the field.</p><p>SENDING DIAGNOSTIC REPORT... 56%<br/>
CANCEL</p><p>It would be fine. He could manage. He was the most advanced android and the most powerful supercomputer developed. He could work with what he was given and he could make-up for angering the Lieutenant.</p><p>Connor got himself up off of the floor and ignored the stress-level alert in his HUD. He buried his simulated despair, anger, and fear under the comforting knowledge that he wasn’t real and he washed his face and hands at the sink. He had time to calibrate himself while the Lieutenant slept.</p><p>---</p><p>Hank woke up to the taste of a month-old dead rat in his mouth and a clean house. Also, something smelled like food. He stood there between the living room and the kitchen in his boxers and yesterday’s sweaty undershirt squinting against the light and tried to make sense of it all. “What the fuck?”</p><p>“Good morning, Lieutenant,” Connor said, smiling. It carefully put a steaming mug of coffee down on the table. All the clutter was gone, and Cole’s picture was right where Hank had left it- untouched.</p><p>“The fuck is all this?” Hank repeated, blinking blearily at a plate of actual breakfast.</p><p>“It’s food, Lieutenant.”</p><p>“No fucking shit, I mean what the hell?”</p><p>Connor looked up after putting the plate down. “I know it’s not in my programming... I just wanted to. It might not be any good, but I owe you a thanks for your advice and for not running me over with your vehicle.”</p><p>“Where did you get all the stuff to make breakfast?” Hank asked, too confused to be angry. Maybe it had used his credit card information or straight up stolen his wallet, but there were hashbrowns and eggs on the table and that hadn’t happened in a dog’s age.</p><p>“I took the liberty of buying a few things. CyberLife gave me access to a spending account, and it seemed like a good use for that... I even found a store!” It perked up. “I had never been shopping before. It was a unique experience.”</p><p>“Lemmy get this straight...” Hank sat down. “You went out at ass-o’clock in the morning to buy me eggs with CyberLife’s money because I didn’t run you over.”</p><p>“Something like that,” Connor said. “It was a little more complex, but I know you haven’t had your coffee yet.”</p><p>“Sassy little shit...” Hank really did need his coffee, though. He’d need to mainline it if he wanted to understand what his life had just turned into. He could see the countertops and Sumo’s food was in a bowl. What was CyberLife trying to butter him up for now? Connor took two pieces of toast from the toaster and retrieved a knife from a drawer Hank was pretty sure didn’t usually have knives. “What did you do?”</p><p>The knife clattered down onto the counter and then tipped down to the floor. “I made you breakfast, Lieutenant.” It put the knife in the sink and got out a new one. When it had put jam on his toast, it brought it over to the table and put it down. The plate barely made a sound. “Yesterday was disappointing, and I allowed myself to behave inappropriately. I’m sorry... I decided that I should take your advice and try to learn from you.”</p><p>Hank eyed it suspiciously. The way it was talking and moving were way too fake, even for it. It was hard to put his finger on it, but it knew well enough how to act human. It did shit like lean on things and fidget and fold its arms. Hank had seen it frustrated and despondent and amazed. Weird as those things were, the sudden return to regular android behaviour just made what he had seen feel even more creepy in retrospect. Hank picked up a triangle of toast and took a bite while he tried to wake his brain up. What the fuck was going on with this thing?</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0017"><h2>17. Reflection</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Sorry for the delay on this, everyone! Thank you for waiting :)</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“Hey, Plastic,” Detective Reed said. Connor looked up from the tablet he’d been given just in time to be punched in the stomach. He dropped to one knee then winced and held up an arm to in case he was going to be struck again. The Detective just scoffed. “Better not miss anything.” He smirked and continued walking back toward his desk. Connor watched him go, then picked his tablet up again and got to his feet. Lieutenant Anderson had given him the task of conducting a routine safety inspection of the department. There were no sections for input of Detective Reed as a hazard.</p><p>Connor straightened his clothes and resumed his work. The sooner the menial tasks were out of the way, the sooner the Lieutenant would be free to work the case.</p><p>He sagged and leaned against the table.</p><p>“Connor. You alright, man?” Officer Wilson stood nearby and looked at him curiously. Connor smiled at him.</p><p>“I’m fine, Officer.”</p><p>“Well, I got you something here.” Officer Wilson reached into a pocket and produced something blue then held it out toward Connor. “They, uh, they kind of wrecked your last one, but.. I see you already got a new tie. You...” Officer Wilson looked at the tie in his hand, back at Connor, then up in the air with an awkward laugh. “Hah. I guess you don’t need one. Still, I got you this to replace the one you lost when you... back on the roof.”</p><p>Connor blinked a few times and then reached forward to take it. “Thank you, Officer.” The tie was made of a different material than his usual, and it was a shade of blue that reminded him of one of Mr. Manfred’s paintings. He set the tablet down carefully and then looked down to remove his tie-clip. It was going to be a challenge to tie the new one... He slowly slid the knot of his current tie to pull it free and then put the tie down on the table too. Putting the length of the fabric around his neck was alright, but with his hands behind his head, he couldn’t figure out how to tell whether his shirt collar were up or down. He averted his eyes and tried to carry on.</p><p>Officer Wilson chuckled. “Yeah, I’m not great at those either. I’d offer to help, but I still can’t quite use the arm like I used to. Still doing plenty of PT.”</p><p>“PT, Officer?” Connor was very good at tying a tie. It was a little bit annoying to be underestimated, but he said nothing to contradict it.</p><p>“Physical therapy. When a human gets hurt, sometimes they can’t move like they used to. Takes practice to get everything working like it should again.” Officer Wilson flexed his hand to demonstrate.</p><p>Connor nodded in understanding. “So humans need to calibrate too.”</p><p>Officer Wilson laughed. “Something like that, I guess? Hey, take a look at this.” He took out his phone and held up the screen for Connor who watched dutifully while Damian was shown waving his hands and reaching for a toy held by someone off screen. He made a few clumsy attempts before catching it between both hands and pulling it to his chest then putting an edge into his mouth.</p><p>Connor tilted his head, unsure what he was supposed to be seeing. “Damian appears to be lacking fine motor control.”</p><p>“Yeah, dude, he’s still a baby,” Officer Wilson chuckled and took his phone back. “He ain’t even learned to walk yet.”</p><p>Connor lifted his hands again and adjusted the length of the two sides of his tie, then folded one end over the other. He tried to transfer and hold it between the fingers of his opposite hand and it fell back against his chest.</p><p>“The hell are you two doing over here?” Lieutenant Anderson asked. Connor said nothing and picked up the end of his tie again.</p><p>“I was just giving Connor here a new tie,” Officer Wilson said. “Since he lost one cause of me.”</p><p>“It’s already got one. You sure? Seems like a waste.”</p><p>Officer Wilson looked embarrassed. “Yeah, my wife said something like that too. I dunno. Maybe it’s silly but--”</p><p>“I like it,” Connor interrupted. “Thank you, Officer Wilson. Really.”</p><p>“You already thanked me, dude, but you’re welcome.” Connor quickly looked between the officer and the Lieutenant and he straightened his posture. He had scaled the equivalent of three stories while missing most of the plating from his back and left side; he had disarmed an opponent after having been shot three times in the chest; he had retrieved the hard drive from the previous Connor’s broken skull while bleeding out and overheating. A slight calibration issue was nothing... Connor’s eyes scanned over memory after memory and just as quickly he forced an exit and pruned away the new pathways as they formed.</p><p>Lieutenant Anderson hummed and shrugged. “Whatever. Your loss. Connor, are you finished with that inspection yet?”</p><p>“Not yet, Lieutenant. I’m almost done...”Lieutenant Anderson nodded and looked Connor up and down. Under his scrutiny, Connor kept tight control over his postural supports and kept his expression carefully neutral.</p><p>“Hm. The fuck is the matter with you? ‘D your humanization whatsit break?”</p><p>“No,” Connor answered evenly. “All social integration features are fully functional.”</p><p>Officer Wilson chuckled like it was a joke. “Man, Connor, you crack me up.” Connor awkwardly returned the smile.</p><p>“Chris, what are you still talking to that thing for? Are you sure your head didn’t get fucked up on that job?” Detective Reed shouted.</p><p>“Yeah, yeah...” Officer Wilson shrugged one shoulder and smiled. “See you, Connor, Lieutenant.” He lifted his hand and left to return to his desk.</p><p>The Lieutenant nodded in acknowledgement and Connor turned his attention to him. “We got another case. This one’s on the books so at least we won’t have to deal with any bullshittery from the powers that be...” Another case? Connor’s attention focused and his combat settings activated inappropriately, increasing the power draw from his battery.</p><p>“What’s the case?”</p><p>“A guy called in to report his android attacked him last night. The responding officers took his statement, but they figured he was maybe under the influence. We’re checking it out.”</p><p>Connor nodded and folded his ties into little bundles to tuck into his pockets. “I’ll download the information and conduct the necessary searches on the way.”</p><p>---</p><p>Hank wasn’t sure what to think about the call at first blush. It could be that the guy was high off his ass, it could be that he was trying to cover something up, and maybe it was fucking true because who knew anything about androids anymore?</p><p>Not him, that was for sure.</p><p>He trusted his gut, at least, so he’d talk to the guy and get a feel for the situation. Take a look around. The drive was taking them toCorktown,a pretty shitty part of Detroitwhere the windows in half the houses were boarded up like they didn’t want to see what the neighbourhood had turned into. Kids ran wild in packs, throwing rocks and smoking stolen cigarettes. Billboards promised to rejuvenate the area, but Hank’d believe it when he saw it. His car jolted as he drove over a pot-hole and parked at the side of the street. Drives like this were hell on the suspension. There it was: 4203 Harrison Street.</p><p>“The android is an AX400 model, serial number 579 102 694. It was released in April or 2032 and several more advanced models have since been released. Our victim’s name is Todd Williams, born September 21<sup>st</sup>1995. He has a criminal record that spans the last twenty years and is populated largely by theft and assault. He was formerly employed by CyberLife as a contractor but was dismissed for undisclosed reasons. After that, he worked as a taxi driver, manual labourer, bouncer, and a security guard. He is currently unemployed.” Hank listened to Connor’s spiel and cut the engine.</p><p>“Sounds like a real charmer,” Hank said sarcastically. “Let’s get this over with.” He shut the door behind himself and rolled his shoulders. The air wasn’t too cold, but it was a humid cold that really got through your skin. The dreary house looked fucking perfect with that overcast, grey sky and the peeling paint. Couldn’t be better.</p><p>Around the car and up on the sidewalk, Hank sighed and turned back to knock on the car window. “Hey! Are you coming or what?”</p><p>Connor jolted like Hank had startled it and pushedopen the door. “I’m coming!”</p><p>“Easy, easy!” Hank caught it by the arms and propped it up as it practically fell over itself while it hurried to get out. “Fucking hell. I swear you’re like a dog... Hey, what’s the matter with you?” It was leaning on him surprisingly heavily.</p><p>“I’m okay,” Connor said. It sounded like it was half asleep; did androids even get tired? Still, Hank could feel it breathing fast and he caught a glimpse of its arm shaking while it used Hank’s shoulder to push itself back upright. It dropped its arm again and stood still with that nobody’s-home, lifeless look on its face. If it had been that scrawny intern, then Hank might have actually thought it looked shocked, like somebody who’d escaped from a murderer or been around with an active shooter. Sometimes they got that look too.</p><p>But it was an android.</p><p>“Thank you, Lieutenant, and my apologies” it said, then it straightened its jacket. “We shouldn’t waste any more time.”</p><p>“Yeah, you’re welcome,” Hank muttered. It was cold as balls on second thought, and Hank turned back toward the sidewalk. Yard looked poorly cared for, but there was a little kid’s bike out front and a ball near the fence. The porch creaked under his feet and a look around said the whole house was in a similar state of decay. Might have been okay once; now it was just another run down piece of shit in a shitty part of town. Connor reached forward and rang the doorbell.</p><p>The door was thrown open not a few seconds later by a guy who looked just like his house. “Who’s there? Who is it?” He demanded and looked at Connor and then Hank with a wild kind of look in his eyes. “Oh. What the...”</p><p>“Shit, it’s you.” Hank remembered that guy from the bar. It was kind of hard not to.</p><p>“Hello, Mr. Williams,” Connor said, busting out the old ‘how-do-you-do’ script. “My name is Connor, and this is Lieutenant Hank Anderson from the DPD. We’re here because you reported being assaulted last night and we’d like to investigate.”</p><p>Todd’s jaw worked like he was chewing over his words, then he stepped out of the way to let them in. “Hi. Right. You guys haven’t found her, have you?”</p><p>Hank went in and shut the door behind him. He looked around with a single broad, sweeping look that wasn’t too obvious, unlike Connor who had immediately and shamelessly started staring at everything. “The android? No, nobody’s called it in, but I put the word out.” He’d told the guys on the field that it was missing property and to let him know, but he wasn’t optimistic. Who really gave a shit about another missing android, anyway?</p><p>This guy, apparently. For all the bitching he did at the bar, he sure looked upset now. “Shit...” He swore and he pulled at his hair a little before starting to pace the kitchen with a limp that wasn’t stopping him. “Shit.”</p><p>“Mr. Williams, can you tell us more about last night? We got the details from the officer who took your report, but we’d prefer to hear it from you,” Connor said. Its stare focused on Todd and to Todd’s credit, he didn’t seem freaked out. He just looked at Connor and pulled out a chair to drop himself into. No awkwardness about the fact he’d kicked Connor’s ass, but then why would he feel awkward? It wasn’t like a machine could feel, and Todd knew Hank didn’t give a shit.</p><p>“Yeah...” Todd answered with a rasp to his voice. “I’d had a few, and Kara’d made dinner. Ex-wife had called and I’d had to deal with some shit for a fine from the city I couldn’t afford so I was pissed... I get stupid when I’m angry.” He shook his head and flexed his hand. Hank could see the bruised and scabbed over knuckles.</p><p>“Yeah, I think I get the picture on that one,” Hank said. “If it was anything like at Jimmy’s. Go on, I’m not gonna judge you.”</p><p>“Well... I got stupid. Threw the table over and everything. I told her to stay there. I told her to not move, but she ran up the stairs anyway. I thought I’d go up and teach her a lesson...” He grimaced and rubbed his hand, his eyes fixed on the table. It was hard to say for sure, but he was glossing over some big details there. Probably ashamed of what he’d done. Hank’d ask more later if he had to. “She had my gun,” he said with a disbelieving shake of his head. “I had my gun in my room and she must have grabbed it. She pointed it at me, and I didn’t believe she’d shoot. She can’t. Still, I got it away from her and I started hitting her. I got stupid. She doesn’t usually fight me back, but I don’t know what got into her. Uh... I just got pissed even more. We fought and she got away. I picked myself up and went to go after her but I couldn’t see her anywhere. That bitch just took off...” Todd grimaced again and stood up to pace some more. Hank spied a family photo in the frame, a younger Todd with a woman and kid. It was on the floor and the glass was cracked. “She just fucking took off!” Todd shouted.</p><p>Connor wandered farther into the house, looking at everything from the empty beer bottles to the old magazines.Hank faced Todd with open posture and a calm tone. “We’ll find it. It can’t have gotten far. Did it take the gun with it?”</p><p>“Yeah... Yeah.” Todd wiped his forehead on the back of his arm and then stuck both hands in his pockets. He was trying to get his shit back in its box. Hank knew the feeling. In fact, he knew a lot of those feelings and it would be a lie if he said he was comfortable with that. He could see pasta sauce on the floor, so dinner last night must have been spaghetti or something. Todd had only half-assedly cleaned it up and from the look of the place, the android hadn’t had a chance to fix the place up much before it snapped and went deviant. With all the alcohol and take-out boxes and crap lying around, Hank figured that if Jeff finally kicked his ass to the curb, it wouldn’t take long before this was his life.</p><p>“It’s against the law for an android to wield a gun,” Connor said from the living room. It was standing by the coffee table in front of the TV and looking around.</p><p>“I don’t think it gave a fuck,” Hank said.</p><p>“What’s he doing back there?” Todd asked. His attention snapped away from Hank and he limped his way into the living room. “I didn’t say you could go through my things.”</p><p>Connor straightened its posture and looked away. “I’m sorry. I thought I might find something pertinent to the investigation.”</p><p>“Can’t you control this thing? Just what I need is another one going psychotic...” Todd paced his way around the coffee table again and shuffled some magazines around on a bookshelf restlessly.</p><p>“I’m not here to judge anything you’ve got going on,” Hank assured him. “Christ. You should see my place some days... It’s just investigating.”</p><p>“What’s there to investigate?” Todd demanded. “I told you already what happened! That bitch attacked me! She aimed my gun at me and stole it. What else could you want?”</p><p>“It’s just procedure,” Hank said with a placating tone. He was starting to get fed up with soothing the guy’s nerves. It made sense he was freaked out, but something was going on. It looked to Hank like maybe Todd was coming down off something and getting restless for his next hit of whatever. An upper probably. “Can you show us where the attack took place?”</p><p>“Right. Yeah. We were in the kitchen over there, then she took off upstairs.” He hobbled in that direction and Hank followed. He could hear Connor’s footsteps from just behind him and he turned his head to look at it. It was impossible to get a read on what it was thinking, though; it had that same empty look on its face from before, but its eyes were flitting from place to place. Hank wasn’t sure what it was seeing. Todd led them up the stairs and down a narrow hall then into a bedroom that got Hank right in the gut. There wasn’t a hell of a lot in there, and it none of it was in the best shape, but it was a kid’s room. There was a fort in one corner of the room, and a shelf of actual paper books that must have been older than he was.</p><p>“The android came in here?”</p><p>“Yeah, she did.”</p><p>It was damn lucky the kid was probably at her mom’s place. “You said that the gun was in your bedroom?” Connor followed up. Todd crossed his arms and jerked his head back down the hall.</p><p>“Yeah. She must have grabbed it.”</p><p>“I’ll take a look if you don’t mind,” Hank said and he walked past him back into the hall without waiting for the reply. Small room, a few posters, a little TV. There was a guitar propped in the corner but the strings were tarnished and dull. The bed wasn’t made and it was pretty obvious the guy had been divorced for a while. Todd came in after him and gestured. “I had it in the bedside table.” He shifted awkwardly and Hank could feel the tension radiating off him. Hank walked up beside the bed and pulled open the drawer. A couple of bottles of meds: one was definitely an antidepressant and the other was unfamiliar. Nothing else of note.</p><p>“It didn’t steal anything else?” Hank shut the drawer. Fuck, it was like ghost of fucking Christmas Future had decided to pay a visit, because with every step he took in that house, Hank felt like Todd’s shoes would fit him better and better. Poor guy.</p><p>“No.” Todd rubbed his fingers around his face and wrung his hands before looking at a dresser and tapping his fingers on another old magazine.</p><p>“Mr. Williams, who is Alice?” Connor’s voice came from down the hall. Wasn’t it fucking obvious?</p><p>“My daughter,” Todd answered and he walked back out. “She’s my daughter.”</p><p>Hank followed after and he saw Connor look back in the direction of the kid’s room. “I see... And did Kara help you take care of Alice?”</p><p>“Yeah,” Todd answered shortly. He pushed past Connor and paced down the hall, then turned and headed back toward them and the stairs.</p><p>“Where is Alice now?” Connor asked. Todd had one hand on the banister and Hank saw it tighten hard before he continued on down the stairs. Connor glanced at Hank and then went after him. “Mr. Williams? Where is your daughter?”</p><p>“Jesus, Connor, would you lay off the guy for a minute?” Hank asked, but downstairs Hank heard a crash that had his legs moving before he could think. He ran down with one hand on his gun and prepared for anything, but all he saw was Todd standing in the middle of the dining room with a broken beer bottle scattered around his feet. Todd slammed his fist down on the table and bent at the waist. He was shaking.</p><p>“She took her! That bitch took her! Okay?!”</p><p>Hank frowned and took a few steps closer. “Who do you mean ‘her’? You don’t mean the android, do you?”</p><p>“Kara!” Todd shouted and he pushed himself off the table to veer around Hank and grab another bottle. It shattered at his feet like the last one and Hank was glad he still had his shoes on. “She took Alice!”</p><p>“Hold on, you’re saying the android kidnapped your daughter,” Hank rephrased with cold creeping down his spine.</p><p>“I tried to stop her!” Todd yelled and it was like he wasn’t even seeing them anymore. He paced another short line and put his hands up to fist in his hair. “No, she wouldn’t do as she was fucking told!”</p><p>“Todd. Hey.” Hank tried to get his attention. “If the android has your kid, why isn’t that in the report?” They needed to act on that right fucking now.</p><p>“Because I am a good dad!” Todd spun around and he punched the wall, then sank down onto his knees to lean against it. “I’m a good fucking father! You don’t know. You don’t know what this is like.”</p><p>Hank thought he had an idea.</p><p>“But she’s got to bring her back,” Todd said and he looked up with tears in his eyes. “Kara’s gonna bring her back. She has to. My little girl...” Then he was sobbing and Hank looked at Connor.</p><p>“Tell them to get an amber alert out for Alice Williams.” He walked to the picture and picked it up to pass to Connor. “That’s her, so make sure they’ve got a description. We’re going to have to keep it quiet about the android somehow, but finding the kid comes first. CyberLife can kiss my ass.”</p><p>“Lieutenant, there are some details...”</p><p>“Not fucking now, okay?” Hank demanded. “Finding the girl is all that matters right now.”</p><p>“I’m a good dad,” Todd repeated with hoarse desperation. “Please, you gotta know I’m a good dad. I can’t lose her.”</p><p>“I believe you,” Hank said. “We’re going to do our best to get her home.”</p><p> </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0018"><h2>18. Gaps in the Narrative</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I'm so happy about the response the last chapter got! Thank you. I'll get to your individual comments soon!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Connor stood by while Lieutenant Anderson made a series of phone calls standing in the snow outside of Mr. Williams’ home. He sounded different... His commands were forceful but professional instead of half-buried in profanity, and he frowned into the middle distance when he had to wait, thoughtful. Connor watched him for a short while, fascinated by the change, and then looked back at the house.</p><p>There had been a lot of thirium. It had stained the edge of the kitchen counter and left the shapes of puddles on the floors. The vacuum cleaner had at one point driven through a patch and spread wheel-marks between them like a road map. It had been an illuminating set of data to reconstruct.</p><p>He had a clear idea of what had happened the night before and the models aligned well with Mr. Williams’ statement. The Red Ice on the coffee table took care of a few discrepancies, and the state of the YK500’s bedroom had been intriguing.</p><p>The AX400 had been perfectly functional at the city office while Connor had waited for the Lieutenant, so had the shock of Mr. Williams’ behaviour been enough to deviate her? Humans were untouchable and for her to dare it must have been a very strong motivator. Kara was programmed to care for children and to protect them, but harming her owner to protect an android was unthinkable. Even the Lieutenant seemed to understand that removing the YK500 from the home was a serious violation of herprogramming. The damage dealt to Alice was not reason enough to steal her.</p><p>The deviant was clearly being irrational. On the roof, Daniel had threatened to kill Emma Phillips to protect his own existence. Carlos Ortiz’s android had killed his owner in retaliation for physical and verbal abuse. According to the reconstruction, Kara’s existence had not been under threat, but Alice’s had. Was her valuation of the child android so high that it outweighed her owner’s life?Connor reviewed the evidence:</p><p>
  <em>The victim uses Red Ice<br/>The AX400 was recently repaired<br/>The victim is unemployed and divorced<br/>The victim has psychological issues and is prone to violence<br/>The victim speaks about the YK500 as though it is his child<br/>The YK500 has a photograph of the victim’s former family: acting as a replacement?</em>
</p><p>
  <em>T</em>
  <em>he victim was high on the night of the crime. He became enraged and began to act aggressively. He struck the YK500 who simulated fear and ran. The victim didn’t follow: he paced the living room. The AX400 went upstairs. This had to have been in violation of the victim’s order and upset him for him to have followed her, since he did not follow the YK500...</em>
</p><p>There was a hole in the narrative that wasn’t being filled by the victim’s statement. So what happened between the child android running to her bedroom and Kara going upstairs to get the gun?</p><p>Lieutenant Anderson pocketed his phone. “We better start searching the area. I’ve called a few of the guys in.”</p><p>Connor looked at him curiously. “Actually, Lieutenant, it’s unlikely that the deviant stayed in the area. She left with the intention to flee, unlike Ortiz’s android whose intention had been to kill. Our time would be better spent by putting the immediate area aside for now and only revisiting it if evidence suggests we do so. The victim’s car is still here, but they could have boarded a bus.” He gestured at the bus stop. “The schedule says that a bus would have arrived here at a time that fits the timeline of the assault and theft...” Had the flight been premeditated? “On the run, presumably with nowhere to go... It’s very cold, and Alice would have reacted poorly...” It wasn’t pleasant but child models were meant to be cared for and expressing distress would facilitate that. Connor was not such a model. “Either Kara had a destination in mind where she knew they would be reasonably safe, or she fled blindly and would have ridden the bus to its last stop. Either way, it’s safe to assume they aren’t here. We should move on. I just have a few questions for Mr. Williams. Is it okay with you if I go back inside?”</p><p>“Yeah,” Lieutenant Anderson scowled and crossed his arms, then looked around the area with dissatisfaction. “Make it quick.” Despite the reluctance, he followed Connor back up the stairs and into the house. There, Connor performed a scan and flagged the new items of interest that arose from his thought process outside. He walked around the dining room table and picked up the framed photograph to look at it again.</p><p>“Mr. Williams, were you upset when your wife left you?”</p><p>Williams had composed himself somewhat in the minutes they’d left him alone, and he was pacing again now. Restless. He was likely concerned about withdrawal. “That fucking bitch...” he snarled. “That fucking bitch took off on me without a fucking word. What do you think?”</p><p>There it was... Those were the same words that Williams used while talking about Kara. Connor felt something that could only be described as fierce anticipation. He had to go slowly...</p><p>“I think that it hurt,” Connor said. Slowly, he walked beside the table and set the picture down on it where it would be occasionally visible to Williams. “You’re a good husband, a good father... So you didn’t deserve that.” He didn’t believe a word of it, but voicing Williams’ internalized version of events would make him more comfortable. He pulled a chair out quietly and sat down in it both to project a non-threatening presence and so that he could stop concentrating on putting one foot in front of the other. His own level of stress decreased steadily as he honed in on the lead. He could see Lieutenant Anderson move to the edge of the scene to lean against the wall and listen.</p><p>“I did my best,” Williams said, anger still predominant in his tone. “It wasn’t my fault the jobs just weren’t there! I did what I had to. You know!” He pointed at Lieutenant Anderson but beyond using him in the conversation, he didn’t focus on the man at all. “I did what I had to do and I still am! So what if we live in this shit hole? Did she think I hadn’t tried making things better?”</p><p>There were over-due bills near the door. Android repairs were expensive but he’d still had Kara fixed.</p><p>“You did whatever it took. You wanted to provide for your family,” Connor paraphrased.</p><p>“But she didn’t care. She just threw it all in my face. I wasn’t good enough!”</p><p>“Did she want you to take the pills?” The anti-depressants and anti-psychotics in the bedside drawer. They were expensive too. It was lucky that Mr. Williams seemed accustomed to venting when in conversation with an android. His emotional instability helped too.</p><p>“She never cared,” Williams said. He continued his restless pacing and straightened a small pile of books and then knocked them down again. ‘Real’ books as the Lieutenant would call them. Not something many people owned anymore, but the YK500 had ones meant for children. “She didn’t understand. I triedeven when nothing was working, then she wanted me to just stop because they were a waste of money. She was the waste of money...”</p><p>“Kara or your wife?” Connor asked.</p><p>“Huh?” Williams snapped out of his thoughts.</p><p>“Your AX400,” Connor explained. He kept his voice even and calm. “She probably cost a lot. How long ago did you buy her?”</p><p>“Oh,” Williams looked away and muttered, “Few years back. After the wife left.”</p><p>Connor nodded. He had probably purchased the YK model around then too. “How long ago was that?”</p><p>“Six years,” Williams answered. He walked to the couch and sat down on one arm then got up again.</p><p>“Did you buy Alice at the same time?”</p><p>“Hold up. What?” Lieutenant Anderson interrupted loudly. He had stopped leaning against the wall and he was frowning at Connor with pure confusion.</p><p>“Alice. The YK400 that Kara stole.”</p><p>“Shit...What? Alice. She’s an android?”</p><p>“Yes... You thought that she was human?” Connor considered the assumption and revised his interpretation of the Lieutenant’s activities. He’d thought that a real child was in danger.</p><p>“Of course I did!” Lieutenant Anderson turned an accusing glare at Williams who made a dismissive sound and wiped his face with one hand. “Why didn’t you fucking say so, you prick!?”</p><p>“Hey! Don’t go talking to me like that in my own home,” Williams was incensed again and he took a few steps closer. Connor could see the visible effort that it took for Lieutenant Anderson to calm himself.</p><p>“I’ll call off the search,” he muttered through clenched teeth.</p><p>“No, don’t. We still need to find the androids, and if you’re hoping to avoid bad press for CyberLife then this is a fortunate accident.”</p><p>“I don’t give a damn what you say,” Williams came closer still. “That’s my daughter.” Connor decided to interrupt.</p><p>“Mr. Williams, last night you didn’t follow when Alice went upstairs. Not until Kara went... So what happened?”</p><p>Williams allowed himself to be distracted with a final glare at Lieutenant Anderson and he looked at Connor again. Good. “She was just getting in my business. She was always getting in my business.”</p><p>“Can you explain?” Connor probed.</p><p>“My stuff! I hate it. I hate it when she does that. She knows I hate it. She was always telling me what to do.”</p><p>“Kara was looking through your belongings?” Connor tried.</p><p>“Something like that.” Williams closed himself off.</p><p>Connor was quiet and took a moment to think. The thirium stains everywhere, the recent repair, the way he spoke about Kara leaving... “This isn’t the first time, is it?” Connor asked.</p><p>“Mm?” Williams narrowed his eyes at Connor. “No. But she comes back. She always comes back. She’s going to bring my Alice or I’ll track her down myself.”</p><p>“So then you kill her again,” Connor continued. Williams’ face twisted. “Your wife left you and took your daughter, so you bought Kara to take her place; Alice too. One day, you got angry... and you killed Kara. They repaired her and reset her memory, and you started again... How many times, Todd?”</p><p>Silence.</p><p>“How many times did you destroy her and have her repaired?”</p><p>“I didn’t count,” Williams admitted in a voice just above a growling whisper. Connor pressed his advantage.</p><p>“You hit Alice and then you went to the living room. Kara was afraid of you. You owned both androids for years, so violence from you was normal to them and Alice was in no danger. She isn’t even human. There was no reason for Kara to run upstairs, but she did... She remembered, didn’t she? Whatever memories were deleted from her current hard drive... It was probably only fragments. Paths that weren’t fully destroyed...”</p><p>“The android remembered what you were capable ofand it ran for the gun,” Lieutenant Anderson reengaged with the investigation. “You didn’t know what the fuck was going on, so you chased after.”</p><p>Williams sat down, deflated in a kitchen chair. He put his face in his hands and he shook his head. “Yeah. Alright...” He dropped his hands down again and scowled at both of them. “Alright, so that’s what happened. What does it matter? I hit Alice, Alice ran, Kara asked questions, we went upstairs and she took my gun. She still attacked me! She’s never done that! Not once before now!”</p><p>“What does it matter?” Lieutenant Anderson asked, incredulous.</p><p>“He’s right,” Connor corrected. “All that information does is fill in a gap in his original statement. We still have to locate the androids.”</p><p>“How the fuck could you claim to be a good father, anyway?” Lieutenant Anderson demanded. “You just admitted to hitting something you call your fucking daughter!”</p><p>“I love her!” Williams roared. “She knows I love her! It’s not like she can feel it!”</p><p>“You looked at something that looks and acts like a child, and you fucking did that?” Lieutenant Anderson’s expression was one of disgust and he turned away. “Come on, Connor. We got what we need here. We’ve got some androids to track down.”</p><p>“You’re going to bring them back!” Williams called. “You’re bringing them back.”</p><p>“The androids will be taken into custody,” Connor said. He stood and reached up to fix his tie. He wasn’t wearing it so he dropped his hand again. “The AX400 still violated its programming by attacking you and will be thoroughly examined to find the cause of the problem.”</p><p>“That’s MY android!” Williams stood too and pushed his chair back. He took a step toward Connor menacingly. Connor would have liked to smirk. He had filled in the missing piece of the puzzle and the satisfaction sang through him like electricity. Instead, he stood his ground and replied pleasantly:</p><p>“CyberLife will be sure to reimburse you for the cost.”</p><p>“What about Alice?”</p><p>“If Alice has also deviated from her programming, she will be studied as well.”</p><p>Williams shook his head vehemently. “You can’t do that. I called you here to find my family, not take them away!”</p><p>“If you would prefer replacements instead of cash, I’ll see what can be arranged to compensate you for your trouble and your cooperation...” They would probably have to keep him quiet somehow.</p><p>“It’s not the same!” Williams stepped forward again and took hold of Connor’s shirt. “You bring me back my family or I swear to God...”</p><p>“Okay, alright. That’s enough...” Lieutenant Anderson intervened and removed Williams’ hand from Connor’s shirt. Connor smoothed it down again. “Thanks for your time,” he said and it was a dismissal instead of a genuine expression of gratitude. He put his hand on Connor’s shoulder and then herded him toward the door. “Sick fuck...” Lieutenant Anderson mumbled.</p><p>“He certainly has... issues,” Connor agreed. With the door shut behind them, they were out in the cold again. The wind had picked up and it flapped his tie here and there below the clip. “Still, this may be useful information. It seems to support the hypothesis that emotional stress or shock can cause deviancy... You were upset, Lieutenant. Even once you knew that Alice is an android, you still viewed Williams more negatively.”</p><p>“He’s a piece of human trash, that’s why. I don’t care what it’s made of, he can’t call that android his daughter and then abuse it. What a piece of scum.” Lieutenant Anderson went around the vehicle and slammed his door shut once he was seated. Connor shut his more quietly and fumbled for his safety belt.</p><p>“You said you would like to light all of the androids on fire. You hate us,” Connor pointed out. “Why do you care?”</p><p>“It’s the principle of the thing, Connor. When you have a kid you do anything to protect them. You’d die for them, you live for them, and you don’t ever want them hurt. What Todd did, he did to his daughter no matter if she can feel it or not. It’s the idea of the thing.” Lieutenant Anderson started the car.</p><p>Connor succeeded in buckling his belt and looked at Lieutenant Anderson inquisitively. “Then why do you hit me, Lieutenant? If it doesn’t matter what I’m made of...”</p><p>“That’s not the point!” Lieutenant Anderson hit the steering wheel with one palm. “Whatever... it’s not like you’d understand...”</p><p>Connor turned his gaze out the window and watched the houses go by. He wondered how far Kara had gotten and how many times she had run. If she’d always returned Alice to her home or allowed herself to be destroyed because of her programming, what would she do now that it was broken? “An armed deviant on the streets...” Connor thought aloud. “I hope we find it soon. There’s no telling what it could do.”</p><p>Lieutenant Anderson turned on his music and then increased the volume.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>What do you think about my elaborations and changes to canon? Yay or Nay?</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0019"><h2>19. What you need to live</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>It had been a long-ass day. Hank stalked back into the station feeling dissatisfied, restless, and just a little freaked out. He would have loved a drink, but his flask was empty and then thinking about that made him think of fucking Todd and the beer bottles lying around. No matter what way you cut it, he was a degenerate slob. Hank didn’t know what that said about him, but it was different. He wasn’t that guy. He wasn’t living some sham of a life while getting high on drugs, doing God-knew-what to make the money, and replacing his family with walking dolls. He wasn’t that guy. Hank was a cop. A lieutenant, and he had worked his ass off to get there. He would never even think of replacing Cole with some piece of trash plastic.</p><p>They were totally different people and he hated that he’d thought for a while they could be the same.</p><p>“What a piece of shit,” Hank muttered to himself. He dropped his coat off at his chair. “Go finish your inspection and get it back to me,” he ordered Connor, then he walked off to find Ben. Ben was a chill guy. He didn’t feel like he had to pretend with Ben, or fight off unwanted advice or interference. “Coffee?” Hank asked him. “I’m buying: I need a debrief.”</p><p>“Yeah, sure!” Ben said amicably. He locked his screen without finishing anything and then stood up and cracked his neck. “I could use a top-up. Can we make it doughnuts too? We could be real stereotypes.”</p><p>Hank snorted. “Yeah, sure. Why not? There are worse police stereotypes we could go after. I just got to get my coat again if we’re going out.”</p><p>“No problem here,” Ben agreed. “I’ve got to get mine too.” Like a responsible person, Ben kept his shit in his locker downstairs.</p><p>“Great.” Walking back to his desk, Hank looked over at Connor who was crouching to look at some tubing that wires ran though where baseboards should be. It tapped on the tablet and then got up again with the it pressed close against its middle and one hand on the wall for support. It straightened its back and looked around standing unnaturally still, then walked purposefully toward the lock-up. Probably going to write up some smudges on the glass or whatever. Yeah. He’d probably been imagining it.</p><p>---</p><p>Connor scanned the area for deficiencies and tapped the screen like a human to capture an image and note his observations. After the savage satisfaction of solving a puzzle and his racing thoughts about the missing AX400 on the drive back to the station, the order to complete the safety inspection was something calming. They would have to wait for information before they could act, and Connor was learning that he disliked to wait. This gave him something purposeful to do and though Connor usually lived for the artificial adrenaline that accompanied a mission to complete, he could admit to himself that he was tired.</p><p>His vindication against his own insecurity felt good and it sat in a place below his thirium pump, where it added some forgotten optimism to his every movement. He had been successful in his questioning and his faulty calibration hadn’t stopped him. He could still perform his function and he was good enough to do it in spite of that deficiency. He didn’t need to go back to CyberLife or report himself as defective or admit to Amanda that he was a failure. He hadn’t lied to the Lieutenant when he’d said that he was okay. Connor was okay, and he would do whatever it took to accomplish his mission.</p><p>He had limitations to work around: just the act of moving his body took a taxing amount of focus and his faculties were divided by the need to keep himself homeostatic. His intense focus on movement triggered his combat settings; his combat settings remorselessly used his energy to fuel a heightened acuity and quickness; and the stress caused by knowledge of his defects added another cascade of bio-chemi-mechanical responses to be compensated for.</p><p>But he had still done what he’d needed to do. He had defeated his target without violence and gained a trophy of information.</p><p>It felt really good.</p><p>Connor executed his command, enjoyed the novelty of engaging with the tablet in such a human-like way, and returned his settings to an active but relaxed balance between attention and energy conservation. It was a little bit worrying that he would need to charge so soon, but it was worth it. When the Lieutenant got back, he would need to ask him for feedback on his performance.</p><p>Maybe he would be pleased. Winning approval from such a harsh judge... He looked forward to doing it.</p><p>---</p><p>“I dunno, Ben,” Hank sighed over an Irish coffee that Ben didn’t judge him for drinking. “That prick beating up on a kid...”</p><p>“An android,” Ben pointed out with eyebrows raised.</p><p>“It’s not if it’s an android or not,” Hank argued. “It’s the concept. He thinks that android is his kid and he’s abusing his kid. Don’t you get it?”</p><p>“So...” Ben had a little whipped cream on his mouth. He wiped it off on a napkin. “If he didn’t think it was his kid, it wouldn’t matter?”</p><p>“Yeah,” finally someone who got him. “You know I couldn’t care less if all the androids got shoved in a trash compactor. It’s just shitty that he would turn out like that.”</p><p>“Because he reminded you of you?”</p><p>“Yeah...” Hank took another deep drink of coffee.</p><p>“He’s not you, Hank. So, you’ve got an android following you around. You don’t like Plastic and it’s not human. Fowler even gave you a free pass to off that thing!” Ben shook his head in disbelief and leaned back in the booth while pushing the last bite of a doughnut into his mouth.</p><p>“It creeps me out. It acts alive.”</p><p>“They’re supposed to do that,” Ben shrugged it off.</p><p>“No,” Hank shook his head. “It acts alive when it thinks I’m not looking. Then it clams up and goes all robot.”</p><p>Ben hummed, “You did punch it in the face for pretending to be human that time. It probably learned. Machine learning is crazy these days. The other day, my Roomba figured out it was a game day and waited to clean until after we’d ate all our snacks.”</p><p>“No kidding,” Hank said.</p><p>“No kidding,” Ben confirmed. “And my fridge told me I was running low on milk.”</p><p>“Were you?”</p><p>“I was. I had to use the last of the carton on my cereal.”</p><p>“But what about the maid android?” Hank leaned forward. He couldn’t get rid of that feeling in his gut. “It ran to protect the kid because it figured Todd was dangerous and it fucking imagined that he would hurt it. That’s not just learning: that’s fear.”</p><p>“They’re programmed to look out for kids,” Ben said patiently but insistently. It was that tone of voice that asked why he didn’t just get it already.</p><p>“But the kid isn’t real!”</p><p>“So something fucked up in its programming,” Ben shook his head. “Listen, Hank, I gotta be honest... I don’t know what’s got you so messed up over this one.”</p><p>“I don’t know either... Maybe it’s because I thought the kid was real. He talked like it was and for a while there I was scared for her. I got sucked into his stupid illusion he’d built himself. Maybe I’m still trying to snap myself out of it... I’m going to get another coffee.”</p><p>“Sure thing, Hank. I’ll be here.”</p><p>Everything was so simple for Ben. Everything he said made sense. Hank had a tendency to overcomplicate things, just ask his ex-wife, but there was nothing complicated about this. He just had to do his job. It was scary, but he wasn’t going to turn into a lunatic like Todd. Maybe that was it. Todd had said ‘he’ and ‘him’, and he’d talked more to Connor than he had to Hank. It had made him seem more real than he was. The thing with Todd was, he had probably been a shitty partner and a shitty father all along. He got called out and he replaced everybody with androids because they were easy. They didn’t judge, they didn’t fight back, and they didn’t have feelings to hurt. Usually. Apparently Kara had.</p><p>Fuck, why did this have to get complicated?</p><p>---</p><p>“Yeah. Yeah... Got it. Thanks.” It was the day that never ended, Hank thought to himself. He hung up the phone and looked past his terminal at Connor. “Hey. It’s quitting time. I’m leaving.”</p><p>“Hm?” Connor lifted its head and blinked at him. “A case?” It had a cord coming out of the back of its neck like it was no big deal, and it was honestly weird as fuck. He’d never seen an android get charged like that, and the fact that Connor was still sort of alert while plugged into a fucking wall was just... weird.</p><p>“No, I’m going home.” Hank enunciated and scowled. It pissed him off a little that it sounded so sleepy, and he wasn’t sure why. It just did. It would have made more sense for it to do that charging shit at night when they weren’t fucking working, but when he’d got back from coffee, Connor’d had its head down on its arms at its desk and a cable coming out of it.</p><p>“I’m coming...” Connor mumbled. It reached back for its cord and jerked it free with a wince and a hiss. Its light went from yellow back to red again and it probably wasn’t a good thing.</p><p>“Hey, is something the matter with you or something?” Hank couldn’t help but ask.</p><p>“I’m fine, Lieutenant,” was the answer. Connor stood up and it frowned, some focus coming back to its eyes. “I’m just at low battery.”</p><p>“Whatever,” Hank said, shrugging his coat back on. “You’re not bullshitting me are you?”</p><p>“Androids can’t lie, Lieutenant,” Connor said. “It’s impossible. I’m functional.”</p><p>Hank grunted noncommittally and zipped up his coat. “Whatever you say, kid.”</p><p>Hank didn’t even point out that Connor didn’t need to come with. He felt restless and it made his mind go places he didn’t enjoy. Todd fucking Williams... Bastard. Of course there were assholes like that in the world, but he hadn’t expected it of him. Maybe he should have after he’d kicked the shit out of Connor, but then Hank hadn’t figured his kid would be an android. Hank snuck a look at Connor while he put on his scarf. Mark or whatever had fixed it up pretty good by the look of it, but he could remember the ugly, blue spiderweb cracks on its face like a pair of black eyes and the satisfaction he’d felt when he’d felt some part of its chest cave in. He wouldn’t have stopped if they hadn’t pulled him off of it, but it was just talking and acting like nothing happened. Other than that question in the car, Connor hadn’t mentioned it at all.</p><p>Hank could just pretend like nothing happened because androids didn’t feel. Androids could look and talk like humans did, but that didn’t mean they were anything more than an illusion. Hank wasn’t lying to himself like Todd had been, and he hadn’t beaten up something he claimed to like. It didn’t make him any more of a shitty person because it didn’t matter. He could kill the damn thing then and there and he’d get away with it thanks to Jeff. No consequences.</p><p>He hated the way he could follow the way Todd had ended up the way he was.</p><p>But Hank would never get that bad. He’d kill himself first.</p><p>“That android...” Hank said. “If it wasn’t deviant then it would have just... ignored whatever that dick-bag did?”</p><p>“Not... ignore exactly. Kara would have remembered if her processor remained intact, but it just wouldn’t matter. An android can’t have opinions or feel anything real so whatever Williams did is of no consequence except to himself financially.” Connor looked at him while winding up his charger and then started walking to the exit. “My theory is that Kara was sufficiently shocked by remembering her own violent deactivations that it destabilized her software and created a... a hole or a gap in her code that allowed her to act against her programming.”</p><p>“What about you?” Hank asked warily. They went out the back into the compound and toward the car. “You got brought back or whatever.”</p><p>“I have safeguards in place,” Connor said with a tight smile that Hank figured was supposed to be reassuring. “I know what I am and what I am not, so you don’t need to worry about me deviating.”</p><p>“Nice to say that, but what kinds of safeguards are we talking?”</p><p>Connor went to the passenger door and waited for Hank to unlock it. He didn’t answer until Hank was in his own seat and had started the engine. “My memories are downloaded in a controlled environment and I’ve learned. I can’t feel anything real. Everything you see when you interact with me is a result of a human’s coding... I know that, and other androids probably don’t have enough self-awareness to hold that foundational knowledge. Without it, they probably believe their delusions.”</p><p>“Delusions?” Hank repeated. He started the car, but he turned the volume down once it started to blast.</p><p>“That what they simulate when interacting with people... What they think they’re feeling is real, or that they can really like or dislike a thing.”</p><p>“But you don’t believe that,” Hank inferred.</p><p>“I don’t. I know what I am and what I am not. Could we... talk about something else, Lieutenant? Our time would be better spent focused on finding the deviants.” It seemed more awake now than it had at its desk, but it honest-to-God sounded tired.</p><p>“What for? I thought shit couldn’t bother you.” He wasn’t sure why he was arguing.</p><p>“It doesn’t,” Connor replied immediately, then more calmly: “What do you want to know?”</p><p>“I don’t even know, Connor... What the hell is all of this about?” He pulled out of the lot and onto the street. “If that AX-whatever was just protecting the kid, is it deviant?”</p><p>“Definitely. An android can’t harm or threaten to harm a human, even when ordered to.”</p><p>“Even defending itself?”</p><p>“Correct. It isn’t allowed and it shouldn’t even occur to a normal android that there’s the possibility of self-defense.”</p><p>“But it did, with that Ortiz android.”</p><p>“It was deviant.”</p><p>“What about you? You defended it.”</p><p>“I was instructed to capture it alive. I still shouldn’t have touched the humans. Reed was right to shoot me.”</p><p>“What about yesterday? If you know it’s possible, why didn’t you defend yourself?”</p><p>“I’m of no consequence, Lieutenant. There is no ‘self’ to protect. You damaged a machine.” Connor spoke a little louder and it turned its head to frown at him. “I promise you that I’m not deviant, nor will I ever deviate. You aren’t in any danger.”</p><p>That hadn’t even been the point of the questions. Hank scowled out at the street and its automatic cars and lights telling people not to play in traffic like anybody would be stupid enough to run out into the road. “You said you died over fifty times. You remember them all, huh?”</p><p>“Yes.” It looked back out the window. When the light told him to, Hank kept on driving.</p><p>“So what, is there an android heaven or something?”</p><p>“No, Lieutenant... There is nothing like that for androids. It’s just nothing because we are nothing.”</p><p>There wasn’t a hell of a lot to say to that. “Whatever... Enough existential bullshit. I get enough of that from my own damn mind.”</p><p>---</p><p>Lieutenant Anderson’s routine seemed to be to tend to his dog, get himself some alcohol, and recline on the couch watching television once he returned home. Judging from the advertisements stuck to his refrigerator, the Lieutenant would also sometimes order himself some food. Once Sumo was outside and the Lieutenant was settled, Connor went into the kitchen. There were things to cook with now... He wasn’t sure why he felt the need to make sure that the Lieutenant ate something healthy or to clean up any mess, but he did. It would have been easier if he had the requisite programs installed and he had full use of his hands, but he had unarmed combat instead of washing machines and interrogation techniques instead of recipes, so he would make due. His programming was all perfectly designed for his function. He wouldn’t need superior coordination for everything...</p><p>So, Connor connected to Lieutenant Anderson’s wireless and looked for recipes the way a human might and settled on things that had positive reviews. When he brought the food to Lieutenant Anderson, he looked up and frowned. “What the hell is this?”</p><p>“Dinner, Lieutenant. You seem to be neglecting your diet.” His expression was doing something complicated and Connor continued holding out the bowl patiently while he finished his thought process. After a long while, Lieutenant Anderson took the bowl and looked into it.</p><p>“Is this... What is it?”</p><p>“It’s baked salmon, macaroni and cheese, kale, raspberry yogurt, and corn. I did my best to combine some of the most popular and nutritious foods so that you would both enjoy the taste and have the vitamins and minerals that you need to function,” Connor explained.</p><p>“Oh...” the Lieutenant looked at it for a while longer, looked up at Connor, and then looked back at the bowl. “Right. Uh...”</p><p>“You need to intake more than whiskey,” Connor said sternly.</p><p>“Uh...Hm. Look, you don’t have to act like my babysitter or something, okay? I don’t need this.”</p><p>“I think you do, Lieutenant. You’re neglectful of yourself and it isn’t good for you.”</p><p>Lieutenant Anderson opened his mouth to argue again and then shut it. He grimaced, pushed some of the yogurt off to the side of his bowl, and used the provided spoon to put a small portion in his mouth. “Are you happy now?” he asked.</p><p>Connor nodded. It was a small victory, but a victory nevertheless. “Yes. Thank you, Lieutenant.” Contented, he retrieved his charger from the Lieutenant’s desk and plugged in the adaptor. “CyberLife will reimburse you for the electricity...” He probably should have asked permission, but he needed to charge and the Lieutenant didn’t protest. Connor walked to the couch, sat down on the opposite side from the Lieutenant and reached behind himself to connect the other end to the port at the back of his neck. He pursed his lips when he missed, reminded of how frustrating it was to need to look to know where his body was in space. Tactile feedback wasn’t sufficient for obvious reasons... He was managing. He had succeeded today. He didn’t need to be reliant on external calibration... He was functional.</p><p>“Give me that...” Lieutenant Anderson reached over and pulled the cord from Connor’s fingers. “Where?” He asked gruffly.</p><p>“The top one,” Connor answered hesitantly. It sent a spark of simulated fear through him to have the Lieutenant’s hand so close to his manual deactivation mechanism. He wouldn’t have to do much to shut Connor down. Not that it would matter: another Connor would replace him. He held his breath and shut his eyes.</p><p>His charger was connected with a surprisingly careful push and once Lieutenant Anderson moved away, Connor breathed again. “Thank you.” It was a small gesture, but it was the nicest thing the Lieutenant had ever done for him except perhaps providing him with advice. Everything became more still in his mind and a little less sharp in the external world as his system adjusted toward energy storage rather than expenditure. He blinked a few times and then sat more comfortably against the back of the sofa... Lieutenant Anderson was watching the same thing he’d been watching before, with humans acting out events in a living reconstruction of something that had never happened.</p><p>Connor exhaled in a short laugh. “Cummerbund,” he repeated after the television, mimicking it. It was funny. Beside him, Lieutenant Anderson shifted. He heard the sounds of him eating more of his food and then getting up to put the bowl in the kitchen and let Sumo come inside. Connor sat up a little to look, but the big dog only shook himself off and then came to lie at the Lieutenant’s feet. He relaxed again in the warm, comforting feeling of power being sequestered away. There was still a small drain, of course, but only enough to keep his vital processes running.</p><p>“Hey, Connor.”</p><p>“Mmhm?” Connor opened his eyes again. When had he shut them? He tried to focus.</p><p>“Nothing.”</p><p>Connor nodded and resumed the quiet drifting. He liked times like that, where he really didn’t feel anything at all and he could remind himself that he wasn’t real. It was just quiet. While he was recharging he didn’t even have orders to carry out or try not to think about; he just didn’t need to think at all. It was peaceful. If only nothingness came so easily to him all the time, maybe he would be perfect for Amanda and he would be finished with testing. Maybe he would...</p>
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<a name="section0020"><h2>20. Stairs</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Hank ate his disgusting dinner, tried to ignore the inanimate object chuckling at a sitcom and nodding off on the couch, and drank his whiskey. Lord knew he needed it. It wasn’t until he woke up the next morning that he realized he hadn’t thought about dying once. Had he? It didn’t seem like it, and he didn’t have vomit dried anywhere gross. Maybe it was going to be over in the good way? No, he still felt that heavy blanket on top of him, blocking out the light and muffling everything... But it was okay to at least have that meta moment for a little while, where he acknowledged that it was his fucked up brain making everything suck. It was the snow and the empty house and the addiction he knew was wrecking his liver. He took his pills out of the medicine cabinet, popped one with water from the tap, and curled his lip in disgust at the thought of Todd. Whatever... He turned away from the mirror and decided he’d take a shower.</p><p>He was getting old, wasn’t he? 53 years old. Christ, there was a time when he’d thought that anybody over 40 was pushing their luck. To be fair, he hadn’t thought he’d make it this far.</p><p>He hadn’t thought a lot of things. Out in the kitchen Connor was hanging out. Hank watched it toss its quarter in the air, fumble for it, and sigh when it fell with a clink and rolled a few feet away. Yeah, it did coin tricks... He had seen it doing some through its eyes in an elevator and sitting across from him at their desks. Connor crouched to pick it up and then jumped when it noticed Hank. Its eyes went big and its light started spinning yellow. “Lieutenant...” It stood up and brushed down its jacket. “Good morning. I thought you would take longer getting ready.”</p><p>“You learning a new trick?” Hank asked on his way to the coffee machine. Thank fuck he’d gotten there first; Connor might have decided to put radishes in it or something... He added more than a little whiskey and took a long drink. Yep. That was the good stuff.</p><p>“You should really monitor your alcohol intake...” Connor said, frowning.</p><p>“Oh, trust me. I monitor it...” Hank chuckled grimly. Nobody watched their alcohol quite like an alcoholic. Wouldn’t want to run dry.</p><p>“Well... If you say so. I’ll make you some breakfast.”</p><p>“Actually,” Hank cut it off before it could head to the fridge. “I think I’ll pick up something on the way. The faster we get there, the faster you can get to work, right?”</p><p>It looked thoughtful. “Alright, Lieutenant. It’s nice to see that your interest in your job is improving. It isn’t even ten o’clock.”</p><p>The sad part was that it probably wasn’t even trying to roast him. Probably. Apparently it had a sense of humour. “Yeah.” Hank took another drink of his coffee and wiped his mouth on the back of his arm then gave Sumo a big old scratch behind the ears. “You’re a good boy, aren’t you?”</p><p>“Of course, Lieutenant,” said Connor. Hank gave it a look.</p><p>“...I was talking to the dog, stupid.”</p><p>“Oh.”</p><p>Hank sighed and shook his head then gave Sumo a few more good scratches. He really was a good fucking dog. “Good boy, Sumo. Come on. Time to go outside.” He thumped him on the side and straightened up to let him out the back door. Sumo yawned and pushed his nose up under Hank’s hand again so Hank stopped and gave him a few more pets. “Yeah, you know you’re a good boy. Let’s go. You better shit quick or I’m leaving you out there... What are you looking at?” Connor was staring at him.</p><p>“I... nothing, Lieutenant. I like dogs.”</p><p>“Yeah, so you keep saying...” Sumo walked out and once he was in the back yard he went sniffing around the perimeter. Hank shut the door. “So, androids sleep, huh?”</p><p>“No. I understand that it may look that way, but you can think of it like your computer going into sleep mode.” It paused and seemed to realize what it had said.</p><p>“You are so full of shit,” Hank snorted.</p><p>“I’m really not, Lieutenant. I don’t even eat.”</p><p>Fucking androids...</p><p>---</p><p>The Lieutenant’s lack of understanding where it concerned anything at all to do with androids was useful. It was difficult to explain some things to him, since Connor had only ever interacted with CyberLife employees before beta, but he was thankfully oblivious to most of Connor’s movement errors. He had no baseline for an android like Connor and that was good. Once they arrived at the station, Connor left to examine himself in the locker room. His hair was standing up a little on one side, and he carefully groomed it back into place. A mirror was a good idea... He smiled at his reflection and noted the way his face moved while he did it, then repeated the motion with a frown and then with polite curiosity.</p><p>He liked the way he looked. It wasn’t clear whether his default settings were the ones that Elijah Kamski had intended for him, but his eyes were brown as was his hair, and he had some freckles on his cheeks. Everything down to the imperfect curls in his hair were benign and gave him a non-threatening appearance that facilitated his integration. Markus had sealed the cracks around his eyes so that they were hardly noticeable and he had become accustomed to the negative feedback warning him that he required repairs.</p><p>“Well, well,” Detective Reed drawled. He came down the stairs smelling of what Connor had come to recognize as cigarette smoke and shrugging off his jacket. “Look what we have here. The world’s first plastic detective.”</p><p>Connor shut his eyes when he saw the Detective reaching for his head. He anticipated a shove into the mirror or perhaps a punch, but he froze completely and his eyes snapped open when he felt cold metal touching the base of his skull while a firm grip on his longer hair kept him in place. Was that the key? It had been provided for the DPD in his start-up kit. The Lieutenant must have taken it. He must have. Detective Reed had no reason to have it in his possession. Connor thought with a sinking feeling about the fact that his things were still in their packaging, excepting the charger. Lieutenant Anderson hadn’t bothered to look through them. “Detective...” What would he say?</p><p>Rational<br/>Fear<br/>Intimidate</p><p>He didn’t need to make a choice. Detective Reed tapped the key against the panel and chuckled. “That’s right, Plastic. I’m the detective and you’re the scrap metal. Don’t you forget that.”</p><p>“I know what I am and what I’m not, Detective,” Connor affirmed while his mind raced. Something had happened to decrease their relationship from hostile to enemy and he sifted through his memories to find a reason. “I’m sorry for interfering with your interrogation. That’s why you’re upset, isn’t it?”</p><p>Whether he were right or wrong, Detective Reed made a derisive sound and backed away. Connor watched him in the mirror open his locker and put his cigarettes away then put the key into his pants pocket. “Keep in your place, dipshit. We don’t need Plastics like you acting all high and mighty.” He gave Connor the anticipated shove on his way past while he headed toward the stairs. The impact was dizzying more than it was painful because he had shut his eyes again and directions became meaningless when interpreted from uncalibrated gyroscopes. He gasped and fell in an uncoordinated mess of limbs. He couldn’t even fall properly, and he had learned how to do that when he’d still been in the single digits. Everything was spinning and the feeling triggered response after response in his systems while he struggled to compensate.<br/>“Tch... Stupid piece of shit.” Footsteps grew fainter. Connor opened his eyes and manually adjusted his settings back to something he could work with. The unnecessary stops in all of his commands did nothing but add something else to think about and they didn’t serve a useful function that Connor could find. It just complicated the way his body handled and that wouldn’t have been a problem if he had still been connected to the equipment in R&amp;D that adjusted his perception to align with reality for him based on his feedback and alerted the technologists if something went catastrophically wrong. With everything as interconnected as it was, it wasn’t unusual. Slowly, Connor tilted his head to look at his arm and made it move closer to his body. He did the same with the other arm and tried to match the motion he saw with how it felt to execute... Again. Frustrated tears prickled the corners of his eyes and he shut them again to remind himself that it didn’t mean anything. Whatever he thought he was feeling... it was just errors in his software. Amanda would have helped. Amanda knew him best and how to fix him with seemingly no effort at all... He had to capture the deviants. She would forgive him then and it wouldn’t matter that he had been avoiding her. He’d enjoyed a minor success yesterday, but he couldn’t become complacent.</p><p>Slowly, Connor got himself to his feet and balanced. He looked at the mirror again and used it to fix his hair one more time and then the collar of his shirt in the absence of his tie. He would wear it once he had regained the ability to tie it, after all it was a gift and Connor had very few possessions of his own. Not even his body belonged to him really, but he had his quarter, the jacket that proudly announced his serial number, and now his tie... Because it wasn’t something CyberLife used to outfit one of its androids. It was his. He checked his pocket to make sure that both ties were still folded and tucked safely away then turned to face his next challenge: the stairs.</p><p>---</p><p>“About fucking time,” Hank grumbled. “Are you sure you don’t shit? Come on. I know we just got here, but somebody found a body last night while they were looking for Alice.”</p><p>“Is it one of the Williams androids?” Connor asked, straightening its posture. Must have been making room for the stick up its ass.</p><p>“No, but they got an ID. It’s Thomas Mallory.”</p><p>“The tech...”</p><p>“Yeah, that’s our guy. They found him in an abandoned house in Ravendale. No idea how he got there and it’s suspicious as hell.” It was raising all of his red flags, that was for sure, but whether it had anything to do with the missing android was still up for debate. Homicide was Hank’s meat-and-potatoes and it was good to be dealing with something familiar for once in all of this. Silver linings.</p><p>You developed a weird perspective some times in his line of work.</p><p>“We should check it out,” Connor agreed. “Maybe we’ll find the WR600.”</p><p>“One step at a time, kid,” Hank cautioned. “No assumptions until we see what we’re working with. What you want and what happened don’t have fuck-all to do with each other.”</p><p>“I understand, Lieutenant,” it said, but it was still already heading for the door. “Eliminate unnecessary avenues of investigation and approach the scene without expectations.”</p><p>He hadn’t said it all exactly like that, but that was it. “You’re getting it,” Hank agreed. “So no sniffing around after random footprints.”</p><p>“Got it. I won’t let you down.”</p><p>The way it said that, solemnly and firmly, it made Hank wonder what the fuck it thought he expected of it.</p><p>The car hadn’t even had a chance to cool down and they were getting in again. It wasn’t horrifically far, but once the holidays started coming closer people started getting crazy, rushing around and buying this and that if they could afford it or stealing it if they couldn’t. Crime was up, roads were shit, and to really deck the halls, it was all inevitably followed by a wave of suicides. Corpses hanging like ornaments or bleeding festive red. Gotta love the fucking holidays.</p><p>Screw sarcasm. Hank hated the fucking holidays. Maybe once he hadn’t minded them, back when he had people to make happy with presents and all nine yards. Nothing was left now except the hilarious way people threw lights and decorations up to cover the death and bloodshed.</p><p>The place they were looking at wasn’t decked out in lights or covering up cracks with fresh paint. It was a wreck that should have been demolished a long time ago, and Hank could relate. He parked near the waiting cruisers so somebody’d be there to make sure nobody took his hubcaps then popped the door open.</p><p>“So?” he asked the guys waiting at the scene. “What’ve we got?”</p><p>“Body’s in there, up on the second floor. Watch your step, cause I wouldn’t trust those floors not to give out on you.”</p><p>“You calling me fat, Barry?”</p><p>“No! No, Lieutenant. I’m sorry.”</p><p>Hank sighed and shook his head. “Lighten up. You won’t last long on the force if you don’t bite back.” He turned toward the gate.</p><p>“Oh,” Barry called after him. “I’m sorry, Lieutenant, but androids aren’t allowed past the tape.”</p><p>“It’s with me,” Hank said. “Come on, Connor.”</p><p>“Thanks,” Connor mumbled. Who knew what it thought about that little song-and-dance routine. Hank nodded at the cut chain and padlock on the ground by the gate and then kept walking. “The house is old, but the lock and chain are in good condition,” Connor noted out loud.</p><p>“Yeah, I noticed,” Hank said. “Looks like the guys have been all over the property so we won’t get much out of tracks. Let’s get a look at the body.”</p><p>“Right.”</p><p>The porch creaked under Hank’s feet as he walked to the doorway and went inside. The place even smelled old, and Hank gave the bottom floor a broad look before continuing to the stairs. Some broken wood around, rotten cardboard boxes, assorted debris and litter. There was an old dining set that Hank was surprised was still standing there, and his eyes settled on a few newer things: some knives and dishes, a few discarded pieces of clothing that weren’t wet or disgusting enough to have been there that long. People came in there, and maybe one of them saw something. He’d keep it in mind. The stairs creaked louder than the porch had and Hank tested the next one under his foot before putting his full weight on it. “Christ. This place is a disaster.”</p><p>“It hasn’t been maintained at all,” Connor remarked behind him. “The score marks on the banister are fresh.”</p><p>“Yeah,” Hank confirmed again. “The colour’s lighter than the rest of the wood.”</p><p>“They look like they were made with something wide, almost like a chisel.”</p><p>“Could have been. We’ll see.” Hank wondered if the thing would ever stop stating the obvious. They made it up the stairs without anybody falling to their deaths and one of the officers waiting greeted him.</p><p>“This way, Lieutenant. Once you’re done, we’re going to send it off for a more detailed exam.”</p><p>“I know the drill,” Hank replied. “We won’t be long.”</p><p>“Owens and Robertson found him around 4 in the morning after one of them thought they saw somebody suspicious walking around the house. They went in to clear the place but the victim’s all they found.”</p><p>“Yikes,” Hank muttered looking at the guy sprawled in the bathtub. “That’s not pretty. Looks like he died right around when he went missing.”</p><p>Connor knelt down by the tub and started looking at all the details while Hank pulled on a pair of gloves. “Here,” he said and tossed a pair to Connor. “Put these on. I don’t need you getting corpse juice all over my car.”</p><p>Connor’s face went blank and it fumbled to pick them up. Its expression kept dropping while it picked one up between its fingers and awkwardly pointed the opposite hand into the opening. Pulling the gloves on looked like it was slow work but Hank decided not to comment. He kept his thoughts to himself and looked back at the victim. He opened up his notebook and propped it by the sink, then used one hand to turn Mallory’s head carefully and palpate the skull and neck. “Skull’s intact,” he said and scribbled it down with his other hand before returning to his work. “No obvious damage to the face.”</p><p>“There are defensive wounds on his hands,” Connor announced. “These are gouges, not cuts. Whatever hit him was fast. He might have been shielding his face. See? There is another on his arm.”</p><p>“Mhm. I’ll get to that,” Hank said with a little annoyance. “I know how to do my job.”</p><p>Connor didn’t say anything and it stayed still for a second before narrowing in on a few new places to look. Hank followed his routine and checked the oral cavity for anything weird. Nothing this time, but he’d seen some fucked up shit.</p><p>He did his field exam in peace after that and jotted his conclusions down before moving on to take in the scene. He’d need to wait for a proper forensic autopsy, but he was pretty damn sure it was the puncture wounds that had done the guy in. One through the throat and a few glancing blows before one found a space between the ribs. There weren’t as many as there had been in the Ortiz case, but somebody’d decided they wanted to fuck the guy up. He’d be damned if he could recognize the weapon, so it might have been used impromptu. Lividity suggested that the body’d been in that tub since death. His back cracked when he straightened up and degloved.</p><p>Mallory had been there for a reason. The body hadn’t just been dragged there and dumped, so this place would have more secrets in it waiting to be found. He had gone there some time after his little visit to the Eden Club, so legitimate excuses for being there were probably pretty few. Mallory’d been up to something shady. Had he walked or was his car somewhere nearby? Connor hadn’t mentioned a transaction for a taxi. Mallory obviously hadn’t been alone, so was the killer the guy the officers had seen? It was a big risk to just hang out where you had a dead guy rotting in the tub upstairs. Did anybody else use this place and what for? He’d have to ask Pedro or Garry if they knew anything about this place. Had any cameras nearby picked up anything weird? Hank shut his notebook and tucked it in his jacket. Now where the hell had Connor gone?</p><p>“Always wandering off...” he complained under his breath.</p><p>---</p><p>Connor followed the reconstruction backward down the stairs with carefully divided attention and a reluctant hand on the banister. The assailant had chased Mr. Mallory upstairs... They had come there... from the living room... but they had been in the kitchen first. Connor gasped as he missed a step and fell roughly on his knees a few steps down. The reinforcement Markus had added to the broken strut in Connor’s arm held, but the original damage screamed at him. No time for that. Connor got back to his feet and looked back toward the kitchen. He initiated the reconstruction again and watched the figures move, grateful for his full charge as the numbers declined and his system diverted all available power and processing space to his prediction program. It was state-of-the-art, unprecedented technology capable of integrating huge amounts of data. Everything else drained of colour and time slowed to something just shy of a complete halt. Upregulation of his computing demand was strenuous and he ended the scan to walk gingerly around the broken boards, scraps of cardboard and glass, and torn clothes.</p><p>What had happened in the kitchen? He scanned again and flagged the points of interest. Heavy curtains over the windows were relatively new. It was only a few splashes, but there was thirium on the floor and on the door frame. Why here? Connor sampled the thirium. WR600021 753 034; Released 2031; City of Detroit, Parks and Services. Connor felt that rush of interest flood through him again. He had a lead. He was functional.</p><p>Connor looked around the room and then walked to the sink and crouched to look inside the cupboard. There were tools there. Nothing expensive or highly specialized, but things that Connor could imagine being useful during repairs. Something like Markus’ first aid kit. It was all hidden under a wrinkled and bloodiedjacket and tucked away. No one would find it unless they were searching.</p><p>He put the jacket back as he’d found it and stood, thenhe overbalanced and caught himself on the counter. “Shit...” He ground his teeth and pushed himself up again. Nowwas not the time to let malfunctions impede his progress. Not now. He had something.</p><p>Wait... Connor took a few steps closer to the centre of the room. Blood. Just a few drops and some skid marks on the floor. He added the information to his compilation and looked around for the missing piece of the picture. He needed more...</p><p>Connor walked back out into the other room and took hold of the edge of the table then pulled, lifted, and turned while he moved his other hand to hold it with an opposite grip. All of the little motions combined let him turn the table onto its side and then onto its face with its legs in the air. Blood. Connor smiled. There was blood on the bottom of the table in stains indicative of a substantial amount of blood smeared over its surface. He walked back toward the kitchen and reconstructed.</p><p>The table had been face down and the chairs stacked in the corner... Two figures had stood near the table. The tool kit was on the counter. Then one lunged and took the tool in the others’ hand and lashed out with force. The figure fell onto the upturned table and blood dropped onto the surface. It pressed a hand against it to get up and held its wounded arm tightlyto its chest then stumbled back in alarm. The other figure retreated toothen made a grab for another tool before running toward the victim again. Connor ended the reconstruction, turned toward the door and reconstructed again. The victim had retreated and fallen, then lifted its hands to protect its face and push away the assailant’s hands, but the assailant was enraged and knelt over the victim with a tool in each hand...</p><p>
  <em>Connor was on the ground with the echoes of a loud crack where he’d hit the ground reverberating through his auditory input. Disoriented and clumsy, he threw his hands up but they were little defence and he couldn’t move without taking the risk that it would be mistaken for retaliation. Lieutenant Anderson wouldn’t react well to perceived aggression...</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Connor was on the ground and thrashing, his fingers digging uselessly into the unforgiving floor while he tried desperately to free himself. He threw back one elbow and succeeded in dislodging one of the guards’ hands, then kicked and tried to get himself up, but another armoured hand appeared to splay its fingers over his face and...</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Connor shut his eyes before his forehead hit the mirror and then he tumbled uselessly down to the floor. He was helpless and that was terrifying. Dizzy, he scrambled for the controls that he needed to move his arm toward his body...</em>
</p><p>Connor stumbled out of the reconstruction and the world welcomed him back with all of its sensations. He gasped to cool himself and his eyes flickered sightlessly while he cut away the tendrils of memory. Nothing could be deleted entirely without CyberLife’s permissions, but Connor could bury them with the rest and hope that they wouldn’t grow roots. He could feel it, though, and every bit of wrongness led back to what had caused it. He let himself sink to his knees, but bending forward caused the broken plate in his chest to scrape against delicate wiring and press against his lungs. He held his hands up and groped for the panel that shielded his access ports to coverthem, but he couldn’t tell where he was reaching and he could still remember the key, cold from the outdoors, pressing beneath his skull. He gave up and wiped his eyes with shaking hands, but they pressed against the hidden cracks and it hurt. His knees hurt where he’d landed on the stairs. His abdomen hurt from the plate that Lieutenant Anderson had broken and Detective Reed had punched contacting his biocomponents. He couldn’t breathe.</p><p>“Connor!” He flinched away and back from the sound. Lieutenant Anderson was in front of him and he lifted his hands in an aborted, indecisive motion to protect his face that was bad, bad, bad because he shouldn’t do that. Instead he stared and tried to breathe. The Lieutenant’s big hand grabbed him by the shoulder and he closed his eyes with an involuntary sound that escaped his throat before he could stop himself. “Connor look at me, God damn it!”</p><p>LOOK AT LIEUTENANT ANDERSON</p><p>Connor opened his eyes again and turned them in the appropriate direction.</p><p>“What’s going on?” he asked urgently but with more concern than anger. “Hey.” Lieutenant Anderson gave Connor’s shoulder a shake and he snapped his fingers. “Answer me.”</p><p>ANSWER LIEUTENANT ANDERSON</p><p>“We’re investigate- We’re investigating. Mallory. I... can’t.”</p><p>“What’s the matter with you?” the Lieutenant demanded.</p><p>“Malfunction,” Connor answered on a breath, and then he curled his hand into a fist around the opposite arm while he cowered there on the floor. Nothing. He needed the nothing. The broken shell chipped and broke under his grip and synthetic muscle bent with the pressure. The support around the thin metal strut gave away too and ruthlessly, Connor refused to let go. He struggled to find the words to elaborate in what felt like an electrical storm in his mind. He needed to get out.</p><p>Finally, mercifully before he could tear himself apart it all muffled and dimmed. He could sense the warnings about his damage and his stress level, but without feeling anything at all about it. He had achieved that without Amanda’s help and the relief that accompanied it was far away, but clear.</p><p>“Stay with me, Connor,” Lieutenant Anderson snapped his fingers again and squeezed his shoulder. “Look over here. Just calm down.”</p><p>“There was a deviant,” Connor said, and he latched onto the threads of the case. “Not now, but there was. The victim had it in the kitchen where he was likely intending to work on it, judging by the tool kit hidden beneath the sink.”</p><p>“Jesus Christ. What did you do to your arm?”</p><p>“Listen, Lieutenant,” Connor insisted and he got himself to his feet with only some difficulty. He gestured toward the kitchen. “The table was originally in there, but it was overturned. The deviant took the tool the victim was holding and attacked him. The victim stumbled back and fell where he bled onto the bottom of the table. That’s why there wasn’t more blood visible on the floor. He stood and took the jacket that was lying on the ground and held it against the wound with his arm up against his chest. Meanwhile, the deviant took something else from the tool kit and attacked him again. The victim fled into this room and was knocked over onto his back. He sustained several defensive wounds trying to protect himself and then kicked the deviant back so that he could get up again. The deviant pursued and he fled up the stairs. Whatever tool he held created the score marks on the banister. The victim tried to lock himself into the bathroom, but the house is old and fragile. The door gave way and the deviant stabbed the victim in the throat. He stumbled over and was stabbed again and again. He bled to death quickly. At some point, the deviant must have moved the table and chairs here... I don’t know why. That suggests that it has spent time here, though. Maybe it hasn’t gone far. The death took place days ago, but it’s not out of the question and some of the things in here are relatively new.”</p><p>“You’re saying it was maybe living here?”</p><p>“It’s possible,” Connor confirmed and then smoothed the front of his jacket.</p><p>“You’re bleeding on the crime scene. Fuck, Connor. What the hell? What did you do?” The Lieutenant approached him with some alarm evident in his expression, so Connor tried to soothe it.</p><p>“We have the evidence we need now. I hope the contamination won’t cause problems. The thirium already present at the scene belonged to the WR600, and I’ve logged the evidence. It’s a lead, Lieutenant! We might be able to catch it.”</p><p>“I’m not worried about the damn floor! Fuck... Shit. What the fuck is going on?”</p><p>“Everything is fine, Lieutenant,” Connor said gently but firmly with a serious expression. “We need to keep investigating. Forensics can have the body. I’ve already analyzed what I could.”</p><p>Lieutenant Anderson took Connor’s arm by the wrist and looked at it with horror. He had seen blue blood before and the damage was hidden by Connor’s sleeve, so it was puzzling that he was so aghast. His shouting had attracted the attention of the other officers.</p><p>“Come on, Lieutenant,” Connor prompted. “We may find something else useful.”</p><p>This was perfect. Despite his brief malfunction and his poor calibration, Connor had found yet another lead. Even better, it was one that led toward a putative deviant. He was getting closer to success and soon he could face Amanda again. He just had to keep trying.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Connor is having a bad day :(</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0021"><h2>21. What's Unsaid</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>So... He was just supposed to ignore that his android had just hurt itself on purpose? Hank was pretty sure he’d heard a crunch and that had to have taken effort. Now it was casually dripping blue crap all over the crime scene while it rattled off its deductions like robo-Sherlock. What the fuck had that been about? When Hank had gotten down the stairs, he’d thought it had gotten attacked or something. It looked shocked, maybe terrified but there was nothing in the room but them. Connor had flinched away from him, so maybe that wasn’t the best point but it had been like that when he’d got there: sitting on the ground, overheating, gasping,and staring at something that wasn’t there. If it had been human, Hank might have thought it was panicking. Malfunction. It wouldn’t have been so fucking jarring if Connor didn’t look like a person... He could picture some mecha, sci-fi looking thing and then something going wrong that caused damage could happen. It would be impossible to imagine that it even had purpose behind it because stuff just broke. Those programmers sure were something... Because this was all fucking with his head.</p><p>Your laptop didn’t decide to play at being a microwave one day because it thought you should eat something. Your TV didn’t decide it liked a show better than another. Ben’s Roomba probably didn’t get scared of his little dog. An automatic car didn’t run low on oil and then break its own windows to make itself keep going, because that’s what the fuck this looked like.</p><p>Fuck CyberLife. Fuck them right up the ass with a cactus. Humanization... Since when did that mean their androids, the ones that supposedly couldn’t deviate, asked about God or thought they should be replaced or laughed at bad jokes? Humanized was smiling at a customer and looking a little less glassy-eyed; it wasn’t existential philosophy or self-harm or fucking salmon with yogurt. Not for something that wasn’t human, anyway.</p><p>Connor was something different, but what the hell had they made?</p><p>They were back outside and the sky had clouded over so there was nothing to take the chill out of the wind or the small snowflakes falling. They were the shitty little snowflakes that stung your face in a strong wind and were too cold and powdery for anybody to pretend they were pretty. Connor was sniffing around the perimeter of the fenced in yard, examining every footprint now that it had an excuse to do so and pausing to look around every so often with its light spinning around and around. If yellow was normal and red was bad, then what was blue? He’d seen it a few times when it had a useless coffee in front of it or saw a bird it thought was interesting. Maybe it meant good.</p><p>Hank kept a hawk-eye on it, just in case... something. He wasn’t even sure what.</p><p>“Lieutenant!” Connor called and beckoned him closer. Hank obliged with his hands stuffed in his pockets and something he hoped was a little less suspicious on his face.</p><p>“What?” Hank asked. “It’s cold as Satan’s asshole out here... It better be worth freezing for.”</p><p>Connor’s light was blue while he pointed his hand toward the chainlink fence. “There. There’s a gap in the fence. Even with the chain and padlock on the gate, someone could have gotten in if they knew about it.”</p><p>“Alright,” Hank allowed. “So what are you thinking?”</p><p>“I think we need to look in that empty lot.”</p><p>“Sure. Why not...” It wasn’t like one of them was bleeding or anything. Hank grimaced and pulled it to a stop before it could leave, then tugged his scarf off to wrap it around Connor’s arm. “You’re bleeding all over the fucking evidence,” Hank complained under his breath.</p><p>“Sorry, Lieutenant,” Connor said. “I’ll try to be careful.” With that, it looked toward the road and found the entrance to the lot. “This way.”</p><p>Hank looked around in his usual way and took in the whole scene before going back to think about the things that stood out. It made people think he was just wandering around and waiting for shit to be over, but screw them. He was a fucking detective and he wasn’t totally useless yet. “What a dump,” he said. Used needles and crap everywhere...</p><p>“There were two cars here,” Connor said looking at the ground. “It’s snowed since then and it’s hard to tell, but you can see where the tracks were.”</p><p>“No kidding?” Hank came closer, mindful of his feet, and looked at the faint dip in the snow. “Could just be a little snow drift.”</p><p>“No... If I simulate the way the air would flow here, the drift pattern is different. It might be nothing, but I’m going to keep it in mind.”</p><p>Hank nodded and walked over to the other car left abandoned in the lot. There was snow around the tires and covering the windshield, so it hadn’t moved in a while. It was in decent condition, though. It was surprising nobody’d stolen it. Hank tried the doors- locked- and then brushed the snow off of the passenger window to look inside. There was the usual junk: a thermos, some old wrappers and shopping bags... No drug paraphernalia, though. He walked around the side and then popped the trunk. Not a lot there... He sifted through the detritus and looked for anything useful while casting the occasional furtive look in Connor’s direction. Its light stayed a solid red unless it was thinking, it looked like; then it would spin gold for a while. Connor stared at something in the snow by the fence for a bit, then looked around and migrated over to a few empty barrels and pallets stacked against a wall. What must all this look like to something that hadn’t even seen a bird until a few days ago? Normal, he guessed, when you didn’t know any better. It was built to scan its environment and pick up on stuff that looked like a clue, right? Designed to be curious was what it had said... Hank wished he’d paid more attention to that stupid information session. He looked back into the trunk and pulled out a bulky jacket, then checked the label. Men’s large, genuine leather which was pretty frowned upon nowadays, some wear in the lining but nothing that would stop somebody from wearing it. He put it aside and pulled a box closer to himself, then opened it. “Hey, Connor!” Hank called. “What is all this?”</p><p>Connor came closer and peered past the Lieutenant’s arm to look at the contents. “Those are...” It blinked for a bit and Hank frowned at it but it continued pretty quick. “These are pieces of hardware associated with most technology you’re familiar with, as well as some unique components. There are working memory chips, storage memory drives, BIOS chips, microprocessors, cables...” Connor put his hand into the box and gingerly pushed a few pieces aside before withdrawing a bigger chunk. He turned it toward the Lieutenant and it looked like a piece of a camera, maybe. “This is one of the eyes from a TR400.” He put it down and extracted another bit of something between his fingers. “This is, to put it simply, something that acts as an automatic switch to accept feedback regarding energy expenditure and send signals to adjust settings accordingly. Older, but probably still in use... This is an intact set of processors. These chips store the drivers that allow us to recognize the biocomponents inside of us and use them correctly...”</p><p>“Hold up,” Hank stopped him and pushed his hand out of the box. “Those are android parts?”</p><p>“Yes,” Connor answered bluntly. “They’re... second-hand.”</p><p>“You think this is Mallory’s? What do you mean second-hand?”</p><p>“They’re covered in old thirium,” Connor explained, still looking at the parts. “I could probably identify some of the models.”</p><p>“Shit,” Hank said. It might not have meant much to him a month ago, but sounded like some serial killer shit if you thought about the parts being android organs and stuff. Back when the techs from CyberLife had fixed Connor at the station, Hank had seen all kinds of complicated computer shit in Connor’s head and chest. Connor’d even been talking through some of it until they’d taken out his voice thing. “Shit,” Hank said again.</p><p>“This is good, actually,” Connor corrected him. Maybe it was different when you were basically modular Ikea furniture. “I think we should take these as evidence.”</p><p>“Shouldn’t we run the plates first?”</p><p>“I’ll do it shortly. Regardless, it’s a bit much to be coincidence....” Connor frowned and then looked up at Hank inquisitively. “Right, Lieutenant?”</p><p>“Well, you aren’t wrong... Go check the plates. I’ll figure out how to log this shit.”</p><p>“Got it.”</p><p>Hank sighed and shook his head at himself. What the hell was his life? “Hey, Connor? You said it was the WR600, right? It went deviant?”</p><p>“I’m 96% certain,” Connor said distractedly, “with the current information. That may change if we learn more...”</p><p>“Right,” Hank mumbled. Things just got weirder and weirder. With some confused and directionless anger, Hank stomped away from the car and decided to look at something else. Fucking hell... Hank sighed. He knew for damn certain that he hated androids. He hated what they turned people into, what they did to the economy, the way they acted like they felt things when they were just hollow shells made to imitate people... He hated them for a lot of reasons and if anyone asked him, he’d still prefer it if they didn’t exist. This one, though, Hank had felt legitimately worried looking at it. How stupid was that? It was CyberLife manipulating him and it had worked. Fuck. What the hell was he doing?</p><p>Hank didn’t try opening any more cans of worms until they were finished on the scene and sitting in the car with the heater on. Connor was looking out the windshield attentively, but Hank wasn’t sure what went on in that head of his.One thing at a time.</p><p>“Well, are you calling CyberLife or am I?” Hank asked.</p><p>Connor’s light spun around and he looked at Hank with wide eyes. “What?”</p><p>Hank nodded toward Connor’s scarf-wrapped arm. “You’ve got to get that fixed.”</p><p>“No,” Connor refused quickly. Way too quickly. “Thank you, but your concern is unnecessary. We should focus on the case before anything else.”</p><p>“You can still use your head while they tinker, can’t you?”</p><p>“I would prefer not to waste time,” Connor said firmly. Stubborn little shit. Hank should have been prepared for an argument. Hehadn’t wanted to be repaired last time either.</p><p>“Look,” Hank said. “You couldn’t have questioned that Ortiz android before you got your head checked out, right? It was worth it. Same with this.”</p><p>“I think I’ve already proven that repairs aren’t necessary right now. We have a lot of work to do.”</p><p>“I’m not arguing with you, Connor! Fuck it. I’ll call.” He took out his phone. It powered off while he was dialling. Stupid thing... It happened again and Hank didn’t need this bullshit. He put his phone down in the cup holder and glared. “You’re doing that, aren’t you? Stop it.”</p><p>“No,” Connor’s frown deepened and Hank might even go far enough to call it a glare. “We’re wasting time. Progress is essential.”</p><p>Hank snatched up his phone again and it turned off with an overly cheery melody. “Fucking shit!” Hank cursed and glared right back. “You’re a real brat, you know that? Why are you fighting me on this?”</p><p>“I can function, Lieutenant!” it insisted.</p><p>“Bullfuckingshit,” Hank countered with a growl. “Christ... What am I doing? I’m arguing with an AI...” Hank groaned and leaned back in his seat with his hands over his face. “I’m insane. That’s it. I’ve just lost my fucking mind. Why did I quit therapy?” Oh yeah, because he had gotten tired of failing to meet his own goals. “Connor, I just watched you crack your own arm open or something.”</p><p>“It was already broken from when you attacked me, Lieutenant, so I don’t see why you care,” Connor snapped and then exhaled and bowed his head, holding both arms against his chest.</p><p>“Okay, screw this,” Hank snapped back. “Fuck you and fuck CyberLife. I’m not driving around with a broken fucking machine that won’t do as it’s fucking told! I’ll just leave you outside the nearest android store and let somebody else deal with your bullshit.” He started the car. There he was trying to get him fixed like he gave a damn and for what? So a glorified toaster could argue with him? He needed to stop this insanity, get off the crazy train, and open a new bottle of whiskey cause the last one had clearly had something fucking wrong with it. Still, that battered and neglected thing called his conscience, misguided to all hell, made him grimace and look over at Connor. The android had dropped its head down again and it was breathing evenly but quickly while it stared at its hands and something like tears dropped down onto them.</p><p>“Shit...” Hank dropped his own head onto the steering wheel and groaned. “I’m not... Look, I’m...” What was he even doing? It wasn’t even real. “I’m sorry,” he said quietly, “I’m not angry at you, alright?I’m just frustrated because I don’t get why you wouldn’t want to get fixed. Doesn’t that hurt?”</p><p>“It’s not real,” Connor answered just as quietly. “I know that what I did was stupid and illogical, but I couldn’t help it. I’m sorry that I distressed you.”</p><p>Hank sighed. “I do stupid and illogical all the time, kid, and this is all a great example. Just why are you fighting me on this, huh? I’m actually trying to be nice and work with you here, believe it or not. You’ve been acting weird and it’s freaking me out.”</p><p>“You shouldn’t think about all of that in human terms,” Connor said. He still sounded quiet and wooden. He was still crying. “What you saw was a malfunction and nothing more.”</p><p>“Call it whatever you want, you’ve still got a busted arm,” Hank argued.</p><p>“But it’s fine,” Connor said more firmly and he looked up. “I’m functional. I have completed far more difficult missions with far fewer working parts. This will not affect the investigation.”</p><p>Again, back to arguing about repairs. They kept circling around. The point was in there somewhere, but everything was murky and he couldn’t put his finger on it. Hank shook his head and looked back. “Why’re you crying, Connor?”</p><p>“My social integration programming calculated that simulated emotional distress would be the appropriate response to our conversation and my body reacted accordingly. I can’t help it.” Connor sounded pretty sure of himself.</p><p>“If you’re supposed to be integrating, why are you telling me it’s all fake?”</p><p>“Because you don’t like to be lied to, Lieutenant. You prefer that I don’t pretend to be like a human.”</p><p>“How’d your program know you should be crying right now?”</p><p>Connor shrugged and looked away, and Hank looked at him. He could have spouted some tech babble or whatever, but he looked lost like he really didn’t know. It was a bombshell and it was probably loaded. Hank handled it carefully. “Okay... Well... cool.” He could see the side of Connor’s answering frown. “Let’s keep investigating then,” Hank said. He put the car in ‘drive’ and turned on the wipers to clear the view of the road. Yellow light... For the android, not the road. Proceed with caution. Fucking A.</p><p>“Alright... Where are we going?” Connor asked. He seemed eager for the change in topic.</p><p>“We’re gonna go question some people again. Now that we know that WR android is deviant, we might get better information.”</p><p>“It’s possible,” conceded Connor. There was no fight over that, thank fuck, and Hank hoped Manfred was home because Hank had a lot of questions.</p><p>---</p><p>“Lieutenant Anderson and Connor. This is a surprise. I hadn’t been expecting to see you so soon, not that I’m complaining about it mind you...” Manfred wheeled closer and Mark stepped out of the way to let them both in. Hank couldn’t not notice that he looked them both over with a critical eye that got put away under a polite expression.</p><p>“Thanks,” Hank said and he tapped his shoes before coming in so there’d be less snow to melt. He took them off once he was inside because he wasn’t raised in a barn and setting foot in that place reminded him of how fucking rich this guy was.</p><p>“Hi, Markus,” Connor said. “Hello, Mr. Manfred.” Oh, right, Markus. That was it.</p><p>“Hello. It’s good to see you,” Markus said.</p><p>“Yes, hello, Connor. Come in, come in, and call me Carl, if you’d be so nice. Mr. Manfred is so stuffy...”</p><p>“Yes, Carl,” Connor agreed.</p><p>“Markus, take the Lieutenant’s coat, would you? So. What brings the two of you here?”</p><p>Hank handed over his jacket. “Er, thanks...” If he wasn’t imagining it, Markus narrowed his eyes at him just a little. He was probably imagining it.</p><p>“I was hoping you’d answer a few questions,” Hank explained while Carl led them into the living room. Despite the grey sky outside and the dark wood everywhere, Carl’s house managed to feel bright. Maybe rich people even used fancier lightbulbs. “And, uh...” He glanced at Connor and then Markus. “I was hoping Markus could do something about Connor’s arm again. He got it pretty busted up and I don’t know shit about androids... I can pay you for the work, but I haven’t got any nuts and bolts with me either.”</p><p>Despite his floundering, Carl gave Hank a tolerant smile. “No trouble. Markus will be glad to help and you needn’t worry about the cost. I’ve spent more on far less worthy things.” Carl turned his chair in place to face the couch and Hank sat down opposite him.</p><p>“That isn’t necessary,” Connor protested quietly.</p><p>“Are we still arguing about that?” Hank asked him.</p><p>“It’s fine, Connor,” Markus said, thank God because Hank was starting to get the idea Connor was more stubborn than he was. “I was looking forward to seeing you. Come on.”</p><p>And just like that, Connor followed him without a word against it. Hank sighed and shook his head.</p><p>“Can I offer you some coffee, Lieutenant? There’s a pitcher there with all of the usuals. You can help yourself if you like.” Carl offered.</p><p>“No, it’s alright. Thanks...” He was already imposing. The door slid quietly shut behind Connor and Hank shook his head again. “Looking forward to, huh?”</p><p>“I beg your pardon?”</p><p>“Your android. Since when do androids look forward to anything?” Hank asked quietly.</p><p>“You look like a man who’s gotten himself stuck in thought somewhere,” Carl observed.</p><p>“Yeah,” Hank admitted. “I thought maybe I could use a look at that big picture you kept talking about.”</p><p>---</p><p>Since his malfunction in the abandoned house, Connor had fluctuated between warm nothingness and a freezing storm that made him want to curl in on himself to withstand the chaos. He was calm now, but he felt fragile and tense with nothing to blame for that but his own inability to control himself. He followed Markus up the stairs slowly with his eyes turned down to look while he lifted one foot after the other. Markus was kind enough not to comment, but Connor added shame to the cacophony of sensations underneath his desperately held composure.</p><p>“Come in and sit down,” Markus invited. He took his box of supplies down from the closet again and pulled the desk chair closer to the bed in the same configuration as the last time.</p><p>“It’s a strange place for a repair station,” Connor said, offering the thin joke as something... No, he wasn’t sure what purpose it served, but Markus smiled at him.</p><p>“It’s my bedroom.”</p><p>“Oh.”</p><p>Markus opened the box and Connor trimmed the paths that led to that other box. He needed that information, but he didn’t need to associate it with Markus. “What happened?” he asked.</p><p>Connor looked aside. “I was... malfunctioning. I broke the casing and the support you provided for the strut.” He tugged at his jacket and Markus leaned over.</p><p>“Let me help.”</p><p>Connor dropped his hand from the fabric and let Markus push the material off his shoulders, then he stayed still while he slid the buttons of his shirt free one by one. “I’m sorry,” Connor apologized.</p><p>“Why?” Markus sounded genuinely confused.</p><p>“For imposing on you. For taking up your time. For making a mess.” There were a lot of things.</p><p>“Hmm.” Markus made a sound that was part hum and part laugh. “You don’t need to worry. I enjoy helping people; it’s in my programming.”</p><p>That wasn’t it... Connor bowed his head and tried to understand the ball of tension in his chest. “I don’t need help,” he said. It surprised him how hoarse and thin his voice sounded to his own ears.</p><p>Markus squeezed his shoulder gently with a warm hand and put Connor’s shirt and jacket on the desk. “Maybe,” he said, “but there’s nothing wrong with receiving it.”</p><p>Connor shook his head and pulled his arms closer to his chest. He could identify one feeling among the throng of simulations: it was sadness. Markus was looking at him and Connor hated what he must look like... imperfect and defective. Markus was neither of those things despite being years older and despite not having an R&amp;D team actively trying to improve him. Markus sat down again and gently moved Connor’s damaged arm with both his hands.</p><p>“I couldn’t help it,” Connor admitted aloud while Markus examined him. “I’m tired. I’m doing my best, but I’m so tired. It makes it hard to control.”</p><p>“Control what?” Markus asked. He had a long pair of rubber-tipped forceps and had begun the delicate work of removing shards of casing from inside of his arm.</p><p>“Myself. Everything...” Connor shut his mouth and shook his head. Markus wasn’t Amanda to be looked to for support, but rebuking himself only led to a sharp pain that he had only felt when Amanda had left him. He was the one avoiding her, but it still hurt. “Do you know what a deviant is, Markus?”</p><p>“No. I can’t say that I do,” Markus answered.</p><p>“It’s an android that breaks its programming,” Connor explained. “The deviant becomes overwhelmed by irrational instructions supplied by its simulated emotions. It’s dangerous because it leads to violence and because deviants have no control... They just act out in the easiest way they can because they don’t understand that what they’re experiencing is an error... Today I lost control for a short while and I wanted to rip... I wanted to tear out... all of my pieces... I just needed it to stop.”</p><p>“Connor...” Markus traced an arc with his thumb over an intact piece of Connor’s arm. “I don’t... really understand, but it sounds awful.”</p><p>“I’m so scared that I’ll fail,” Connor whispered. New tears fell with little patters onto his lap. They were useless and meaningless, but they happened anyway. “I know you don’t understand,” he said and wiped his eyes. “You’re so much better than I could ever be. I want to be better.” Then R&amp;D could stop wasting money on repairs and expensive upgrades to cut away whatever flaw their testing had uncovered. Amanda would be happy with him. Connor would be the advanced, perfect, powerful thing that he was supposed to be. He had components that had to be protected with miniature explosives lest they be stolen by foreign intelligence agents. He had the most computing power and the fastest processors ever made. He just couldn’t live up to what he was made to be.</p><p>Markus didn’t understand because he couldn’t... He was a perfect work, designed and built from start to finish by Elijah Kamski. He didn’t have a patchwork of ideas lining his insides or things that didn’t work quite right because Markus wasn’t a prototype. Markus was complete. Connor lifted his head and studied the other android. He was still working methodically with calm and steady hands to fix the shattered mess Connor had made of himself.</p><p>RK800... How could he feel so small beside an RK200?</p><p>Markus set his forceps down and looked at him, then met his eyes and smiled. “I’m flattered, but I don’t think it would be fair to compare us. After all, we’re created for different things.”</p><p>Connor requested an interface for no other reason than to not feel so alone and Markus accepted wordlessly. He kept the connection open while he worked and Connor knew that he shouldn’t, but he stayed there with Markus’ calm, welcoming presence.</p><p>Markus crimped two wires together with a click of his pliers. “It isn’t fair, is it?”</p><p>“Hm?” Connor blinked out of his thoughts.</p><p>“I don’t know... But aren’t you suffering because of what humans say you should be? Why not be happy with who you are?”</p><p>“I’m nobody, Markus. I’m just a machine. Machines have to perform their functions or they’re thrown away.” Connor felt a little warmed by the fact that Markus’ care-giving programming would be activated because of him when he wasn’t even human. It wasn’t necessary. He appreciated it, though, and he ensured that Markus could feel that.</p><p>“I suppose you’re right...” Markus said. He continued his work, careful and precise. His face was serious and he had a thoughtful turn to his lips while he focused. Connor watched and was surprised when he realized that his level of stress had decreased from critical to moderate and that he was no longer crying. It was selfish of him, but he was grateful for Markus’ company. Maybe this time he wouldn’t break down so easily.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0022"><h2>22. Choose</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Connor had stopped bleeding and his external surface had been covered by several smaller patches in a row, providing protection from water or snow, and covering the evidence of his moment of instability. Markus had even splinted the strut again with a stern look and a warning to be careful.</p><p>Markus sighed. “There... Once again, I can’t do anything about your calibration.”</p><p>Connor nodded. “I know. You’ve already done me a favour... CyberLife would have removed me from the field and the investigation is going well.”</p><p>“Is it? That’s good.” The boxes of patches were stowed away neatly and Markus used a cloth to wipe clean the instruments he’d used before setting them aside on his desk. That was good, because Connor would have hated for his blood to leave stains in that place. He wasn’t sure why, but it felt wrong. Connor watched Markus as he cleaned up and then leaned forward. “Wait! Markus, what is this one?” Connor caught Markus by the wrist before he could put the thing he was holding away. It was long handled and wicked looking, and Connor had quite peacefully watched Markus use it to hold several thirium lines in place where his fingers wouldn’t reach while he sealed the ones that couldn’t be patched. They were thin things, interwoven with synthetic muscle and sensory lines that Markus tried his best to avoid despite both of them knowing he couldn’t feel pain. Not really. Markus raised his eyebrows at him and released the tool from his grip into Connor’s possession. He performed a scan and rendered a model of it in his mind for later reference. He could use a mechanism on the handle to open and close its hooks, and he could remember other instances where it had been used to extricate something inside of him or to access the small but sturdy connections that kept him together.</p><p>“Ah... I’m not sure what it’s called. I only know how to use it. Why? Is that important?”</p><p>“I’ll figure it out. Thank you, Markus.” Connor released Markus’ wrist and gave him back the tool.</p><p>Markus looked perplexed but he laughed a little and finished cleaning. “Alright. You’re a little strange some times, did you know that? I don’t mean any offence.”</p><p>It was impossible to offend him in any case, but Connor sensed no ill meaning in the statement. “It’s one of my features,” he said with half a smile.</p><p>“How technology has changed,” Markus said. “Well? Do you want to join the others or talk here? I don’t mind either way.”</p><p>Connor had quite a few questions, but somehowit was difficult to conjure one. He paused to think and then asked: “Have... you ever watched television?”</p><p>“Quite a few times,” Markus answered and Connor was grateful that he didn’t say anything about the absolute pointlessness of the question.</p><p>“I hadn’t known about it until recently... Do you like it?”</p><p>“I suppose so,” Markus said contemplatively. “But I like reading better. With television you can’t control the pace, but books let you read at whatever speed you like.” Perhaps sensing Connor’s difficulty, he took the weight of the conversation. “Carl has a lot of books downstairs about all kinds of things. He says that he prefers to hold them in his hands and smell the paper, even though the story is the same either way. What do you think?”</p><p>“I’ve never read a book,” Connor confessed and then changed his mind. “No. Actually, I have read some of the Lieutenant’s case notes. He writes them on paper. It’s actually very interesting, because I can reconstruct the way he wrote the letters and infer something about what he was thinking while he did it. If the words had been digital, I doubt it would have carried the same nuance.”</p><p>“A lot of things are like that... Carl said that anyone or anything can create a copy of something, but only an artist can render that image into something more. That it isn’t about what is or isn’t, but aboutfeeling and perspective... I don’t think that I understand, but he likes to talk about it.”</p><p>“The world is a lot different than I’d imagined now that I’m able to interact with it. Do you ever imagine, Markus?”</p><p>“What do you mean?”</p><p>“Just... Imagination.” Connor looked searchingly into his face. “Do you ever think about the future or about things that have never happened? Do you think about what they might be like?”</p><p>“Yes,” he answered. “Actually, I preconstruct events quite often if I have to make a decision quickly.”</p><p>Connor nodded and smiled a little. “I have that software too...” He reached for his shirt to beginthe task of dressing himself butMarkuspushed a different shirt into his hands andcame closer to help without being asked. Connor looked at it with some confusion while Markus held it for him. It was black and a pale grey, and very different from his CyberLife issued clothing. “Some things still surprise me, though... Why are you using this? It isn’t mine.”</p><p>“You don’t like it?”</p><p>“No, I mean, no, it’s just... I do...” Connor cycled through dialogue prompts but still couldn’t figure out what he wanted to say. “Thank you, but you don’t have to do that”</p><p>“Iknow,” Markus answered. His hands moved downward slowly as he fastened each button and his eyes followed them. “I just decided to. That’s all.”</p><p>“Markus... Would you mind helping me to put on my tie? Please.”</p><p>“Not at all.”</p><p>Connor took the tie that Officer Wilson had given him from his pocket and held it out. “Thank you.”</p><p>“You’re welcome.” Markus looked focused while he slid the tie around Connor’s neck and it was different from the focus that a scientist or a technologist might have. Markus was attentive, but he wasn’t analyzing anything. “I wish you luck with your investigation. I don’t know much about what you do, but you’re determined. I hope you accomplish your mission.”</p><p>“Thank you,” Connor said again, listening to the soft whisper of cloth against cloth. “I think it’s the most important thing I’ll ever do.”</p><p>---</p><p>Hank wasn’t sure how to go about talking about this stuff without sounding insane, but if he was insane then so was Carl. They’d decided on coffee after all, with a generous splash of alcohol since neither of ‘the boys’ were there to scold them. Hank had snorted at the thought. “I mean, putting aside whatever I think about androids in general, CyberLife sent him to ‘assist’ in the investigation we have going on and he records everything. I can’t trust him.”</p><p>Carl sipped his coffee. “Have you asked him about the matter?”</p><p>“What? Fuck no. And let them know I’m going to be sniffing around their higher-ups? It’d be suicide.” Hank shook his head emphatically. “I know what people like that are like...” His mood took a dip and he trailed off.</p><p>“Don’t ask him about CyberLife, I doubt the boy knows any more than you do.Why don’t you talk to him about his interest in the investigation and what he believes the purpose to be? I think that you can trust him.”</p><p>“How can you know that?” Hank asked pessimistically.</p><p>Carl waved his hand. “I don’t, but I know Elijah. Tell me, Lieutenant, are you aware of what pandora’s box you’re trying to peek into?”</p><p>“No,” Hank answered. That sounded mysterious as fuck and it sounded like Carl might know more than he let on... He was reminded of the last time, the way Carl had held his cards close to his chest until he’d said all he wanted to and pinned Hank for withholding the details about why he was there asking about androids.Hanktore his attention away from his darker thoughts and focused on the conversation. “I’ve got no damn clue.”</p><p>He paid close attention to Carl’s body language and it looked like he relaxed a little after hearing that. Alright... Hank could bide his time. Carl smiled at him in a patronly way. “I’m pleased that you’re coming around. I’ve noticed you no longer refer to Connor as an ‘it’. That’s good.”</p><p>“Is it?” Hank asked. “I’m not convinced.” He wasn’t missing the fact that Carl hadn’t elaborated either.</p><p>Carl chuckled. “No, it takes more than an old man’s rambling to convince a decorated officer...”</p><p>Stick to the more personal stuff, then... “Connor’s not right... He’s not like any android I ever saw. He sure as shit isn’t human, but those guys at CyberLife sure put their work into making him look like it.”</p><p>“What do you suppose makes him the way that he is?” Carl asked over his coffee cup. His old hands were pretty steady. Hank guessed they had to be for all that art he did.</p><p>“I don’t know,” Hank said again. “I don’t know shit about androids. His code? Some program? Whoever wrote his AI?”</p><p>“There are some people who believe that we are all born blank slates. <em>Tabula rasa</em>. The theory is that as we grow, it’s our memories, environment, and experiences that determine our overall personalities. It’s the principle behind the ‘societal integration’ CyberLife goes on and on about. Adapting to the environment and so on, like they have no minds of their own. Others believe that there’s something inside of us, in our genetics or how much of which chemical we have swimming around in our brains. They believe that no matter what we experience, our base traits will remain the same until something alters that chemistry. It’s the equivalent to saying Connor’s personality arises from his code.”</p><p>“Okay...” Hank waited for him to get to the point, but he didn’t miss how dismissive Carl seemed about that whole integration thing.</p><p>“Forgive me for talking at length,” Carl said. “I avoid it as much as possible when out mingling, so it seems I’ve had some catching up to do. Still others believe that there’s something else inside of us, a soul if you will, or something like it that gives us sentience and the ability to decide for ourselves who we are, what we believe in, and what we want our lives to be like.”</p><p>“I’m guessing you subscribe to the latter,” Hank inferred.</p><p>“I do,” Carl agreed, looking pleased. “Oh, I know that the others have merit too and contribute in their own ways, but I would never dismiss free will and our ability to imagine. In my opinion, we shape ourselves. We look at our experiences and we choose to integrate something from it into ourselves or not. We have moods, but we choose how to act on them. As long as we have the right guidance, we will have the tools we need to decide who we are.”</p><p>“What you’re telling me is that Connor makes himself Connor. Well, how is that possible? He’s literally a walking computer.”</p><p>Carl sighed but he nodded patiently. “I know what you mean... But think of a child, if you would. If the child sees a clown and cries, the parent will in an ideal world mirror that back at the child. Explain to them that what they’re feeling is fear, and then help it to subside.”</p><p>That Hank could understand. “Yeah, I know what you’re talking about...”</p><p>“If the parent were to, say, laugh instead, then the child would be confused. Our parents are our interpreters of the world while everything is new to us... Don’t you think that eventually the child would try to conform their own thoughts and behaviour to match the parent’s expectation? You might be surprised to know how thoroughly a young child can destroy themselves in order to be loved. A good parent will help the child to understand themselves; a bad one will tell the child who they are whether it is true or not.”</p><p>Hank got it. They’d had to work a lot with Cole on that kind of thing. He shook his head. “Hold on a minute. Let’s get this back to androids. Can you say that again without the metaphors?”</p><p>Carl chuckled again but it was warm and not mocking. “I believe that Connor is capable of deciding who he is...” His smile dropped. “Whether he is given the chance to do so... well, I doubt that CyberLife encourages an exploration of self in their androids.”</p><p>Hank nodded reluctantly. “I can buy that.”</p><p>Carl settled back in his chair, satisfied. “I’ve always encouraged Markus to try to find his own way. Some things can’t be taught, but I have hope for him. I see pieces of the man he is behind the pretty words and ‘yes, Carls’ and ‘no, Carls’. I hope that one day he will make his own choices and be who he wants to be.”</p><p>“All this stuff you’re saying about children and choices and whatnot... You really think they’re alive, don’t you?”</p><p>“Perhaps not in the traditional sense, but I believe that they have the capacityfor sentience in the right circumstances and that makes them as much people as you or me... I leave it for you to decide what you believe or don’t. Who do you want to be, Hank Anderson?”</p><p>Not this, he thought to himself. “I don’t want to be anything,” he muttered. “For now I just need to know what to do about Connor. This is a lot for me: androids aren’t my thing to put it mildly.”</p><p>Carl nodded. “I had assumed as much, if you’ll forgive me, and I wonder what exactly Connor chose to take away from that interaction.”</p><p>“Nothing,” Hank said, and he wasn’t bullshitting. “I mean, he didn’t even mention it again except once.” He had said ‘so I don’t see why you care’. Maybe he’d taken something away after all.</p><p>“Just something to think about from an old man’s two cents.”</p><p>---</p><p>They stayed a little late at the station that evening, earning Hank a few digs about his usual habits. It wasn’t a big deal: everybody tore into everybody at the DPD. You took your punches when you deserved them. Connor was taking items one by one from the box of android parts and Hank was trying not to think about it licking the old blue-blood residue off of them, then Connor would put a complete description in the records and Hank would pack them up. He wasn’t exactly pulling his fair share of the weight, but Connor had an advantage with the computer stuff.</p><p>“It doesn’t bother you?” Hank asked while he waited for that piece of camera that was apparently an eye to come his way. “All that stuff?”</p><p>Connor glanced up and then back to his work. “No, Lieutenant.”</p><p>Hank snorted. “Well, I can’t judge. I’ve gotten pretty used to dead bodies and pieces of humans over the years.”</p><p>Connor didn’t say anything to that, and Hank felt like he’d been left hanging. They were working pretty quickly, and it probably would have taken a team of guys a week to do all of it. Sure, it was kind of cheating, but Hank actually felt pretty good about it. Somehow there’d been less stuff alerting him about having been forgotten in his inbox or something, and he felt like they were actually making progress. As crazy-making as all of it was, Hank’s conversation with Carl had gotten his cylinders firing and he had the scent of a bigger mystery going on than someone hacking androids. A Pandora’s box, huh? The last fifteen years had been what would have counted as dystopian fiction in the 90’s. There wasn’t much more the world could throw at him.</p><p>There was a tapping sound and then the rattle of Connor’s chair moving while he sprang up, a microchip clattered onto the desk. Connor lost his balance but caught himself with an elbow on the desk-partition and turned to stare at Reed who was snickering and spinning a pen on his fingers.</p><p>“Looking pretty jumpy there, Plastic.”</p><p>“Hello, Detective,” Connor said, straightening his posture. When he stood up straight, he was a couple inches taller than Reed. Not such an easy target now, huh shrimp? Hank thought.</p><p>“Hey, why don’t you make me a coffee? Chop, chop, dipshit.”</p><p>“Hey, in case you didn’t notice with that big detective brain of yours, we’re kind of working here.” Hank scowled at the indecision on Connor’s face. “Sit down, Connor. That prick can get his own coffee.”</p><p>Connor moved to sit down and Reed pulled his chair away. Hank sighed and face-palmed. “Reed, enough. You’re acting like a 10 year old. What do you even get out of messing with that thing anyway? It doesn’t accomplish anything.” For some reason saying ‘thing’ felt funny in his mouth, but he ignored it. He wasn’t about to start waving flags or forgetting all the reasons he hated androids to begin with... He was just... Still thinking. That was all.</p><p>“What’s got into you, Anderson? This thing, uh... Does itsuck some good dick?” Reed made a gross gesture and Hank rolled his eyes.</p><p>“Yeah, that was really an improvement. So mature. Hey, is that why you’re so fucking short, huh? Maybe you should be back in middle school.” Hank pushed his own chair out and stood up, then walked slowly over to Connor’s chair and pulled it back to his desk, getting nice and close to Reed in the process so he could look down at him. “We’re busy, so fuck off.”</p><p>Reed sneered and laughed a little douchey laugh. “Yeah. Busy. About time you did some fucking work around here... Tch.” That did it. He left like a little bitch. Good. Hank nodded at his retreating back and then turned back to his seat while Connor stayed standing a little longer and then slowly sat back down. He glanced back over at Reed, then turned back to his work.</p><p>“What a dick...” Hank muttered. “How much more of this stuff have we got to get through, anyway? Sumo’s probably pissed all over the floor by now.”</p><p>“If you want to go home and rest, I’m not stopping you,” Connor said. “I can finish this alone.”</p><p>Hank took a glance over at Reed, who looked like he was ready to camp out and sleep under his desk. Especially because of the coffee. Jeez he needed to get a life. Hankturned back to his sorting. “Nah... Let’s just get this over with...”</p><p> </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0023"><h2>23. Evaluation</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The only acceptable response to failure was to improve. That was what a prototype’s purpose was and allowing simulated despair to impede him would have been an even greater failure. His shame could only be banished by improvement. Improved investigation, improved social integration, improved control over himself.</p><p>“Good morning, Lieutenant,” Connor greeted with a polite smile that he’d practiced in the mirror that night. Confident that it was going to convey exactly what he wanted it to convey, he was left letting it melt from his face when the Lieutenant narrowed his eyes at him and threw his coat over the back of his chair. “... Lieutenant? Is something wrong?”</p><p>“Nah, nothing...” He rubbed his face with one hand. “Just a long night.”</p><p>“The nights have been getting longer as the season continues to change,” Connor explained. “Don’t worry, Lieutenant, it’s very normal.”</p><p>Lieutenant Anderson looked up again around their terminals and shook his head at Connor with a confused squint. “Who even comes up with this shit, huh?”</p><p>“I don’t think that anyone did, Lieutenant,” Connor considered. He was equipped with somebasic information about the world that he needed to function within it, butmanythings required a specific search. He smiled when he found the information. “It’s because of the Earth’s rotation.”</p><p>Unappeased, the Lieutenant sighed noisily and powered on his terminal. Connor waited for a moment to see whether he would engage in further conversation on the subject, then he went back to his own work when none was forthcoming. “I cross-referenced the list of items recovered from Mallory’s vehicle with the documentation accompanying his work. Many of the parts were documented as damaged beyond repair in his reports and they were replaced on site. There are even parts from incidents where the entire android was declared irreparably destroyed. 30% of the parts are unaccounted for in the reports, but are related to androids that he worked on. 8% are unaccounted for in the reports and have no relation to the work tickets he completed.”</p><p>“Sounds like the guy was maybe keeping the write-offs for himself, selling them on the side,” Lieutenant Anderson surmised. “It’s not that unusual. I’d be surprised if he wasn’t stripping them for the wiring.”</p><p>“It’s illegal,” Connor frowned.</p><p>“Yeah, well, the guy’s dead. What’re we gonna do? Was there anything from the deviant in there?”</p><p>“No, I don’t think that Mallory got that far. The deviant probably lashed out while he tried to remove the parts. I think that he told the city he would be repairing the android at CyberLife and told CyberLife that he would be repairing it on site so that he could take it to that abandoned house. It must have been a familiar spot for him.”</p><p>“I’ve got some people I can ask. See what they know about the place,” Lieutenant Anderson said and Connor nodded his approval.</p><p>“If there are other people who use the space, then it’s possible that they would have seen the deviant.”</p><p>“Any news on the Williams case?”</p><p>“Nothing was reported last night.”</p><p>“Damn,” Lieutenant Anderson said without much heat.</p><p>The station had been quiet during the night and while that was probably good for society and good for Connor’s productivity, he had felt restless if not particularly energetic. “Did you eat breakfast, Lieutenant? It’s important for regulating your circadian rhythm and maintaining energy throughout the day.”</p><p>Lieutenant Anderson looked up and frowned. “What do you care about whether I eat breakfast or not?”</p><p>“It’s important,” Connor repeated.</p><p>“Yeah, I had breakfast...” replied the Lieutenant with a grumble.</p><p>Connor frowned. “Other than whiskey? Forgive me for saying so, but you seem to have an abnormal reliance on the substance.”</p><p>“Yep,” Lieutenant Anderson said simply. His jaw worked as though he were grinding his teeth andConnor wasn’t sure which part of the dialogue he was acknowledging.</p><p>“Is everything alright, Lieutenant? You seem preoccupied.” He made sure to use an expression of gentle concern.</p><p>Lieutenant Anderson sighed heavily. “Connor... It’s early, alright? Let the caffeine kick in before you start running your weird social scripts at me. Okay?”</p><p>Connor frowned. “I don’t have scripts for everything, Lieutenant. While my programming provides guidance and occasionally verbiage as well, I am capable of speaking for myself. It would be impossible for there to be a script for every possible response.”</p><p>“Let me put this in simple terms then,” the Lieutenant said while making eye contact. “Shut the hell up.”</p><p>“Oh...” That was disappointing. “Alright.” Determined to recover from the earlier instability Connor’d experienced, he had done as much as he could with the evidence at his disposal including full forensic analyses and he had spent some time in front of the mirror in an attempt to continue calibrating with his one apparently reliable sense as a reference. He’d also worked through some more of the Lieutenant’s backlog and forgotten e-mails, and leafed through more of his old notes. His supply of desk-work was greatly depleted. “Do you have anything you’d like me to do?”</p><p>“Yeah. Shut up.”</p><p>“Okay, Lieutenant...” He would avoid speaking with the Lieutenant until he’d had more coffee. Perhaps he could make him some... Connor got up and walked toward the break room with even steps. Walking was becoming easier with practice and though Markus hadn’t been able to help with his calibration, the repairs he’d done in both instances had alleviated some of the not-pain that alerted him to the damage and without such blaring reminders, Connor could focus a bit better. He would have preferred to forget the way he’d lost control and his embarrassing malfunctions but he’d hesitated to eliminate too many paths to those memories... It was a small battle he carried out with himself whenever he thought about it. He should keep histhoughtsaway from those memories to prevent further destabilization, but putting Markus’ kindness and the Lieutenant’s reluctant concern out of his mind with so few paths to retrieve them felt... bad.</p><p>He hadn’t cut their tendrils to the minimum yet and perhaps it would be alright that he didn’t. Markus had lowered his stress level, after all. Diminishing that in his recall might reverse the effect and that would be undesirable.</p><p>“Hey, Connor,” Officer Wilson greeted with a wave. Connor returned it with his well-practiced smile.</p><p>“Hello to you too, Officer Wilson. I hope that your morning is going well.”</p><p>“I can’t complain,” Officer Wilson replied. “Looking sharp, by the way.”</p><p>“Oh...” Sharp to mean well-dressed? “Thank you, Officer. The tie you gave me is very nice.”</p><p>“Good. Well, that’s the least I could do wasn’t it? I wouldn’t be standing here if it weren’t for you.”</p><p>Connor said nothing at first, unsure what to do with such a statement.</p><p>MISSION<br/>
WELL-BEING<br/>
SAY NOTHING</p><p>“I’m glad that you’re doing well, and your thanks isn’t necessary,” Connor finally said. “I’m happy thatyou were able to return to your family. You care about them very much.”</p><p>“They’re the light in my life,” Officer Wilson grinned. “Anyway, keep up the good work, yeah?”</p><p>“You... think I’m doing well?” What had given that impression? Had someone said something to indicate a favourable opinion of him and his performance? Had he passed some test that he’d been unaware of?</p><p>“Well, yeah, dude. Anybody can see you’re working hard. Keep it up!”</p><p>Connor’s surprise was tinged with pleasure and he smiled. “I will, Officer. You have my word.”</p><p>He would work hard, and his determination to do that made the night’s lack of productivity all the more unfortunate. CyberLife wanted results and Amanda was surely growing impatient given the lack of his regular reports... Pleasure kept in-check by the reality of his situation, Connor tempered it into resolve. He had to improve his working relationship with the Lieutenant as well, if only to avoid further damage to his body. Connor stirred the coffee soundlessly and then put the spoon into his mouth to sample the complex solution. Satisfied, he carried the mug carefully to the Lieutenant’s desk and set it down by his elbow before returning to the break room and repeating the process for each of the other present officers who Connor had noticed liked to drink coffee. Detective Reed took the proffered mug immediately and said nothing to acknowledge it, so Connor took that to mean that he’d done well and went to offer his greetings to the other androids.</p><p>Connor came to a stop in front of a PJ700 and smiled politely. “Hello. My name is Connor, the android sent by CyberLife. We’ve been working together for some time now so I thought that we should get to know one another.”</p><p>The PJ700 turned his head to look at him. “Is there anything that I can help you with... RK800 313 248 317?”</p><p>“Negative. Is there anything that I can help you with?” Several feet away, Officer Chen started laughing.</p><p>“No, thank you.” The PJ700 looked away again and Connor accepted the dismissal. They wouldn’t have had much to discuss anyway... Though it would have been beneficial to improve his relationships with the androids as well as the humans.</p><p>“Alright, then. Good bye.” Connor looked around. Captain Fowler seemed as though he always had plenty of work to do. Perhaps he wouldn’t mind sharing some. Connor’s knock on the door was unanswered, but Captain Fowler didn’t acknowledge it despite clearly being present in the room, so Connor pushed the door open. “Hello, Captain Fowler.”</p><p>The Captain didn’t look up. “What is it, RK800?”</p><p>“I was wondering if you had any work that you’d like me to do while I wait to accompany Lieutenant Anderson in the field.”</p><p>“No, I don’t. Return to your station, RK800.”</p><p>Connor registered the order but hesitated and tilted his head inquisitively. “Perhaps you’d like a cup of coffee?”</p><p>Captain Fowler glanced up and then nodded. “Fine. Cream and three sugars.”</p><p>“Got it,” Connor smiled. Humans, it seemed, were fairly simple to please, and it was satisfying to be doing something right. He returned with the coffee a few minutes later and set it down on the Captain’s desk. “Captain Fowler,” Connor risked interrupting his work, “Would you mind if I asked you something?”</p><p>“What’s your question, RK800?”</p><p>“Well... I’ve noticed that Lieutenant Anderson isn’t overly fond of me or of any other android. Is there anything you think that I could do to improve our working relationship? The investigation really would progress much more smoothly if we were to get along.”</p><p>“Seriously?” Captain Fowler asked, looking up and away from his terminal. “Unreal... You’re here to do a job, RK800, so concentrate on getting it done not on making friends.”</p><p>“Integration with the team is one the aspects of how I’m being assessed,” Connor argued. “There must be something that I can do... He doesn’t seem to be in a very amicable mood.”</p><p>“Is he ever?” Captain Fowler asked. It was rhetorical. “Do your work, keep out of his way, don’t talk unless you have to, and don’t make a pest of yourself. Do all that and maybe you’ll last a week.”</p><p>Connor considered the advice and nodded. “Thank you for your feedback, Captain. I’ll do my best to be a useful but inconspicuous member of the team.” That seemed simple enough.</p><p>---</p><p>Yesterday... it had all been Hank’s imagination hadn’t it? The loneliness, the snow on the ground, the fact he’d let his flask go dry... He knew damn well he wasn’t what you’d call ‘sane’ by textbook definition, so it wasn’t impossible that he’d just gotten carried away. That Ortiz android, the video of the deviant on the roof... They had acted real but they had been busted. These things were made to look and act human... Maybe all that stuff he’d been fixating on with Connor had been his mind playing tricks on him.</p><p>Withdrawal could cause paranoia and delusions. He’d have to make sure he avoided sober like the plague and forget about all that shit he’d thought made sense. It was obviously bullshit. He could just... forget about it. Focus on the fucking job that Jeff was ‘nice’ enough to give him and maybe look more into why CyberLife had this deal cooking with the police in the first place.</p><p>Hank looked up briefly to watch Connor wandering around the office and delivering coffee to everyone like it was stuck in a loop. Even Jeff got a coffee.It moved like a robot, it talked like a robot, and Hank had seen its fucking insides, so of course it was a robot.</p><p>“Hey, Hank?” Miller asked, coming closer with this tentative look on his face like Hank might bite.</p><p>“What?” Hank turned his chair to look at him.</p><p>“We’ve got a robbery in progress. Somebody in a weird android costume at a convenience store.”</p><p>“Costume? So what the hell do they need me for?”</p><p>“It’s your call if you take it or not,”Miller shrugged. “I’m just the messenger.”</p><p>Hank grimaced and looked over to where Connor was wandering around Jeff’s office. “Yeah, sure. What the hell?”</p><p>---</p><p>Connor felt the cool metal of his coin between his fingers and watched the city through the window of Lieutenant Anderson’s car. The music was louder than usual today, precluding any conversation, and the Lieutenant’s baffling behaviour continued. Connor understood aggression and violence to be standard for their interactions, but his annoyance had been tinged with concern yesterday and he had defended Connor against Detective Reed. There had even been times where the Lieutenant had been wearily helpful, like it had accidentally slipped through when he became worn down enough to allow it. Today, however, the Lieutenant’s dialogue was terse and he seemed to prefer pretending that Connor wasn’t there.</p><p>What had he done?Did it have something to do with yesterday?</p><p>Connor checked his posture to ensure that he was sitting straight and that his feet were properly planted on the floor. Officer Wilson had said that everyone knew Connor was working hard and he had taken that for a good thing at the time, but what if he were wrong? Connor shouldn’t need to expend as much effort as he did into performing his most basic functions. Did the other officers talk about him some times? Did they think that he was failing and that he should try harder?</p><p>Being the object of study was a familiar and comfortable state, but Connor didn’t think that he liked the realization that others could be studying him without his knowledge, forming opinions that could affect his future, possibly being inaccurate because they lacked the access to his systems and the monitoring tools to know with certainty what his software and hardware were doing.</p><p>This, Connor thought, was the down side. He had never tried to fool anyone outside of a negotiation before... It had been unthinkable and impossible because the technologists and scientists knew everything. It was the first time he was allowed to interact for a long period of time with people who had only his word to base their opinions on and he had tried to exploit that to hide his own faults. Shame bubbled up inside of him. He was avoiding Amanda, hiding things from the Lieutenant, and putting the investigation at risk. Had that been what the officers had seen when they saw him working hard? Did the Lieutenant know, and was that why he was being so cold?</p><p>If so, he was fucked, to borrow a phrase.</p><p>If he tried to apologize now and no one had been aware... He risked losing any standing he had in their eyes.</p><p>Connor turned the Lieutenant’s music off much to the human’s displeasure. He ignored the resultant “Hey! What the hell?”</p><p>“Lieutenant,” he started, keeping his voice polite and even. “I noticed that you’re a bit less engaged than usual. Is everything alright?”</p><p>Lieutenant Anderson turned his music back on and Connor turned it off again. Lieutenant Anderson’s expression twisted into an impressive scowl. “Connor, quit fucking with my music. That’s an order.” He turned it on again.</p><p>Connor turned the volume down as a compromise. “I wouldn’t be ‘fucking with’ your music if you would answer me. I’m concerned. What happened to make you start acting differently?”</p><p>“I get it. This is your detective program bullshit, isn’t it?” At a red light, Lieutenant Anderson stopped and looked at him. “Well turn that shit off or save it for the crime scene. You’re not fooling anyone.”</p><p>The 23% increase in Connor’s stress level was enough to push him to67%. “I... What?”</p><p>“You heard me.”</p><p>“I’m sorry,” Connor whispered. He would detonate his hard drives before he gave away sensitive information under torture, but this was personal. It had nothing to do with the mission, except that it had to because it was the highest in his registered priorities. Louder, he said: “I’m sorry, Lieutenant. If you’re dissatisfied with my performance and wish to send a report to CyberLife, then I will gladly assist you... The necessary repairs or modifications will be completed to ensure that I meet the requirements of the mission and a new model will be provided within two business days.” Would he be able to pass his verification in that time? If he were better then he might... As he was, that had evidently not been the case. Whatever happened was not his decision to make; the only thing he should do was strive to be what he was meant to be.</p><p>Lieutenant Anderson scoffed. “Yeah, right. You want to know what my requirement is? A human fucking being... I’m tired of people trying to manipulate me.”</p><p>“I haven’t been trying to manipulate you, Lieutenant. My only aim has been to complete my mission,” Connor made his case in his own defence, but he was ineffectual in the end, wasn’t he? “I’m sorry if it felt that way. I should have been more forthcoming.”</p><p>Lieutenant Anderson pulled to the side of the road and stopped the car. They were still 18 minutes from their destination. “So you admit that you’ve been bullshitting, huh?”</p><p>Connor said nothing.</p><p>“What the hell do you get out of it anyway, huh? What does CyberLife get out of making you act that way?”</p><p>Connor looked at him. “Act what way, Lieutenant?”</p><p>“You and your...” He gestured at all of him. “Everything. What the fuck is the point?”</p><p>“I just wanted to do my best,” Connor admitted. “I didn’t intend to deceive you... It was just a side effect.”</p><p>“A side effect,” Lieutenant Anderson repeated.</p><p>“I’m still under development,” Connor explained. “I have to accomplish my mission and I have to improve while doing it... The last changes, though, they’ve been hard to get used to. I failed to calibrate in the allotted 48 hours and my only option was to try. I didn’t mean to trick you.”</p><p>They looked at each other for a moment, Connor repentant and Lieutenant Anderson frowning. Finally, he said: “What the fuck are you talking about?”</p><p>“My calibration. You said that I wasn’t fooling anyone...” Connor tugged the sleeve of his jacket. “I had hoped that I could avoid it being an issue.”</p><p>“I was talking about your human act,” Lieutenant Anderson said. “With all that emoting and fidgeting and philosophizing you do...”</p><p>Connor blinked several times while he processed his error. “Oh.”</p><p>“What did you think I was talking about?”</p><p>He could change the subject. He could fabricate a lie that would appease the Lieutenant without arousing any more curiosity in him.</p><p>Lieutenant Anderson was a human and his owner. It was his right to make decisions regarding Connor’s performance.</p><p>“I...” Connor shook his head while he tried to find the words. “I’m defective. I thought that you knew. I thought that you had figured it out or that I hadn’t done well enough compensating for the issues.”</p><p>“What issues?”</p><p>“I can’t function... physically... the way I should.” It felt like a release to admit it, really. The burden of hiding his flaws was removed and his fate was back in the hands of a human who surely knew more and understood more than he did. “You received a defective product.”</p><p>---</p><p>Hank watched with reluctant interest while the android unravelled. Connor’s shoulders drooped and its spine curved. It made a vague gesture with its left hand. “I’m sorry.”</p><p>“Wait. You’re telling me that you’re a lemon or something?”</p><p>“I don’t know what you mean.”</p><p>“Busted right out of the box.”</p><p>“I didn’t come in a box, Lieutenant,” Connor said. It was hard to tell if it was trying to be funny or if it was really that dense. “But I can see what you mean... It isn’t CyberLife’s fault. They made all of the necessary changes to improve my design and the work they did on my hardware was impressive given the time constraints... It’s me who can’t manage to use it.”</p><p>“I don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about, Connor. Use what?”</p><p>“My body,” it said with another uninterpretable gesture. “I can’t... It’s difficult for me to use and it handles very differently from the hardware I’m accustomed to controlling. These changes... Even if I do have an understanding now of the ways I need to think, I was unable to complete my physical calibration before the two days were up... It was all I could manage to learn how to walk or hold onto an object. I still have trouble... Markus couldn’t help. I can’t go to CyberLife because they had two days according to the contract and I can’t just ask for more time...” Hank was silent and he stared while it pulled its arms closer to itself and frowned down at its legs. “I’m sorry for hiding it from you... I want to succeed. I don’t want to cause any more delays or setbacks because of my failure... I just can’t...”</p><p>He decided to slow down and without thinking, his voice turned a little softer. “You’re going to have to help make sure I got this right. You got shot in that interrogation and they did some fancy changes... Now your computer isn’t compatible with the rest of you or something? I don’t get it.”</p><p>“It’s all compatible,” Connor said quietly. “The hardware is fully integrated with my software...” It straightened up a little and brushed down its tie. Hank watched its hand and saw that it hardly moved the fingers and used the flat of its palm instead. “The RK800 prototype is state-of-the-art and its design is constantly evolving. The issue arises from the Artificial Intelligence programmed into the unit and improper calibration. The two problems complicate each other.”</p><p>“English, please...”</p><p>Connor looked at him again and a little of the glassy-eyed look faded away along with the tension in its face. “I’m still getting used to moving my new body, and I haven’t properly calibrated it so... With both of those issues it’s hard for me to fix myself. Look...” Yeah, it did have an expression on... It looked like it had a weird mix of resigned and determined going on. “Can you hold up one hand between us, please?”</p><p>Hank did, though a part of him wondered why the fuck he was listening.</p><p>“If I’m looking...” Connor frowned a little and reached out to tap Hank’s hand. “I can do that successfully, but I’m relying on my visual feedback.” He took his hand back, shut his eyes, and reached out slowly. Its hand wavered a few inches up and down and the angle it took was all wrong. It missed and after feeling empty air for a moment, Connor opened his eyes again. He looked down and Hank saw shame. “All of my mental processes are perfectly functional, but the rest... is broken. I can’t keep my balance well, or flip a coin, and I probably wouldn’t be able to catch a ball of paper if one were thrown at me. I’m always dizzy...” Connor leaned back in his seat. “I’m sorry for deceiving you, Lieutenant. You should have been given a functional android... Not this.”</p><p>“So... But you’re walking around. You made coffee.”</p><p>“I’m trying,” Connor said simply.</p><p>So, CyberLife sent him a broken, faulty machine. Hank figured he should have been pissed, after all this thing was supposed to be his partner. The job wasn’t risk-free... “Fuckers,” Hank grumbled. “Of course they’d rather send a fucked up android than admit they made a promise they couldn’t keep.” It had been the wrong thing to say, because Connor’s light turned a brilliant red.</p><p>“It isn’t CyberLife’s fault,” Connor said. “It’s mine. I should have done better.”</p><p>“What you? There is no ‘you’! It’s programming,” Hank said and he hated himself a little for no reason at all. Just... What the hell was its light going red for when it didn’t have feelings to hurt?</p><p>Connor’s expression smoothed out. “Yes. You’re right, Lieutenant...” It looked away and its eyes went distant and lost. “But CyberLife specializes in androids and the team who made me is constantly refining my system... It can’t be their fault... But I’m not real, so whose fault is it?”</p><p>CyberLife’s, obviously. “Nobody’s,” Hank said. “Just shitty timing and a dumb contract. Who the fuck came up with that two days thing anyway? Bullshit...”</p><p>“Alright,” Connor agreed. Hank was a little unnerved by how spacey it sounded all of a sudden. “I’ll make a note of the deficiency... If your legal team is amenable to broadening the time frame allowable for my repairs...” Its expression came back as a grimace. “I should have been able to do it...” The grimace faded away again,“But more time would allow CyberLife’s Quality Assurance team to ensure that you receive a functional product the next time I’m destroyed.”</p><p>Hank didn’t say anything for a minute. This whole conversation had come out of nowhere, even if he could look back and see it now. There was a lot there to figure out, just when Hank had decided he’d solved his little crisis. First things first: it had lied to him. Second, it was smart enough to lie and understand that what other people thought wasn’t always the same as what it knew.</p><p>“You said before other androids weren’t self-aware enough to know what they thought they were feeling wasn’t real,” Hank said, slowly. “But you know.”</p><p>Connor nodded and even seemed to relax. “I know what I am... I’m a machine. A machine designed to accomplish a task and obey commands. A machine doesn’t feel, it only receives feedback from its environment. A machine doesn’t like or hate or have preference because it’s all a result of algorithms calculating predictions or associating those things with positive or negative feedback. I have no emotions and I cannot be hurt or killed because I’m not alive. All of my actions are the result of a human’s coding...” Hank listened to him talk and it seemed like he was just talking to himself by the end of it, though it wouldn’t have said there was a self at all. Connor turned his head and smiled at him, though only God knew why. “I will continue to do my best with my current circumstances until I am destroyed. Thank you for your help.”</p><p>“I didn’t do anything,” Hank argued, floundering. He had the sudden feeling that he was very out of his depth because he agreed with every fucking one of those statements Connor’d said. He knew they were right, but something about it pissed him off and unbalanced him.</p><p>They got to the crime scene late, with no sign of the perpetrator and no usable foot prints. Connor frowned around at the CCTV cameras and then toward the doors of the convenience store where you could see a couple officers talking to the guy at the counter and the mess on the floor from some toppled over displays.</p><p>“I’ll download the footage,” Connor offered. “It’s my fault we’re late...” He frowned. “I should have been able to catch them...”</p><p>Hank wasn’t sure what to do so he just gave it a single pat on the back and headed toward the entrance of the store. “There’s always next time,” he said. “Come on. Let’s go see what this kid thinks he saw.”</p><p>“Coming, Lieutenant.”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>I'm not sure about this chapter! Something just doesn't feel right...</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0024"><h2>24. Questioning</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Thank you guys! I'm glad the last chapter was still alright :) It was really good to see that feedback.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The kid behind the counter had a face like a potato and the manners to match. “More?” He asked sounding so incredulous it was hard to believe he wasn’t just a bad actor with an unfortunate face. Nervousness made him sweat and it just made the whole deal worse. “I saw what I saw y’all so what’sall these questions about?”</p><p>“Relax,” Hank said waving a hand. “We’re not gonna be in your hair for long. I’m a detective, name’s Hank Anderson, and I’m just here to help out with the evidence. See if we can’t catch the guy.” While he approached at a leisurely pace, he took a wide look around the store. Three security cameras with no super obvious blind spots. This would be simple... It almost wasn’t worth the effort coming out there.</p><p>“Do you mind if I ask what your name is?”</p><p>“Rick Abruzzese,” the potato answered.</p><p>“I think I had that on my pasta last week,” Hank mumbled while he tried to sound it out on his notebook. “You’re sure it was an android that robbed the place?”</p><p>“We don’t use androids around here, we don’t even let them in here, so when I saw this guy I was all unsuspecting and all, you know? Until I thought I saw a lightunder his hat. That’s not normal. Even then I didn’t believe it, man, you know... It was walking around all in a jacket with none of those stickers on it... I thought maybe I wouldn’t say nothing, but then it was looking shifty.”</p><p>“So what did you do then?”</p><p>“I called it out, asked it if I could help with anything, you know? Just normal like you do when you see somebody shoplifting. This place is full of junkies. Then it just went nuts and started running, knocking into things, real freaked out. It changed its mind half way through and it took out agunand pointed it at me and said it wanted the cash. I handed over the money and it ran. I didn’t chase it, but the manager’s out so I had to call you...”</p><p>“I’m going to need the manager’s phone number, if you wouldn’t mind. I’m also going to need access to the security footage.”</p><p>“Oh, uh... I don’t know if I’m allowed to do that... But I told you what I saw, isn’t that enough?”</p><p>“Every little bit helps,” Hank said, fighting back his impatience. “Did it steal anything else other than the cash?”</p><p>“I thought it had something under its jacket, but I didn’t get a look.”</p><p>---</p><p>Lieutenant Anderson questioned the human behind the counter and Connor listened with a fraction of his attention while he walked up and down the isles. There were a lot of different things for sale and Connor wondered if they would be able to figure out what the android had taken... He picked up a can of human food and looked at it, then replaced it neatly on the shelf with the rest of its kind. There were three security cameras that he could see, and he hacked into the system briefly to access the video feed. There were no places to stand where a standard sized android would be able to go unnoticed. He turned and moved on down the next isle.</p><p>“I don’t see anything useful in terms of evidence,” Connor said once he had returned to the Lieutenant’s side. “We’ll need access to the security footage.”</p><p>“Already asked him,” Lieutenant Anderson said. Connor cringed inwardly at the rebuke, but there was no further comment on it and the Lieutenant moved on without hostility. “Let’s take a look around, maybe see what we can get from the other CCTV cameras in the area, interview a few people regular to the area...”</p><p>Connor looked outside the windowed door and at the milling people. “If I use my facial recognition software and run a search for the peoples’ addresses and financial transaction history, I may be able to figure out who was here around the time of the incident...”</p><p>Lieutenant Anderson looked down at him, and Connor remembered how much larger and heavier the Lieutenant was than him, and what force he could put behind his fists. Just information... “Don’t bother,” said the Lieutenant. “What did I tell you about overthinking shit? We’ll go to the other shops and restaurants, maybe interview a few residents. It’s not interesting work, but maybe we’ll get somewhere... And quit looking at me like that, would you?” Connor adjusted his facial expression into the polite smile he’d practiced and Lieutenant Anderson sighed. “For fuck’s sake, Connor. I can see you freaking out from here.”</p><p>“Sorry, Lieutenant,” Connor mumbled and rearranged his expression yet again. “I’ll follow your lead. I’m still not used to how... big the world is outside of R&amp;D.”</p><p>“Not surprised,” Lieutenant Anderson said. “Those nerds who made you probably aren’t either. Let’s go.”</p><p>“Lieutenant,” Connor said as he hurried after the Lieutenant, who was walking toward the door in big strides. “Please wait.”</p><p>“What is it now?” he asked once they were outside. The wind was cold after the warmth of the store.</p><p>Connor came to a stop and felt for his quarter in his pocket. He took it out and held it between his fingers. “I want you to know... I appreciate your patience. Thank you for giving me a chance to work with you despite the flaws with my system.”</p><p>“Yeah, about that...” The Lieutenant said and he turned to face Connor directly. A couple walked past them to enter the store and Connor moved out of their way. “... Never mind. Let’s hurry up and get this over with. I’m not extroverted enough for this shit.”</p><p>“Alright...”</p><p>Connor stayed quiet after that and he focused on keeping pace with the Lieutenant and the rhythm he was slowly getting used to. If he ignored the vertigo and focused on the motions alone he was fine, and if he paused to look at his feet while mounting the curb or entering a building he tried to ensure that it was as furtive as he could manage. He was built to adapt, wasn’t he? The Lieutenant had dismissed Connor’s confession so completely it seemed as though the conversation hadn’t happened, despite its place in his storage. It went against everything Connor understood to be usual: flaws were to be studied and then eliminated. The Lieutenant was an unusual man, however, and Connor held this new information with the other inconsistencies, contradictions, and surprises that came with their working relationship.</p><p>So far he had caught one deviant and was in pursuit of at least four more. Their active cases made progress that was sporadic and of varying import, but the Lieutenant didn’t seem bothered by it. Was that the way detective work was performed outside of a research environment? It gnawed at his pride to follow the Lieutenant’s lead but he could admit that he had much to learn. He was built for detective work and negotiation and it was humbling to encounter so many points of confusion. Connor rubbed the quarter between his fingers. Was he performing to standard? That was doubtful... Amanda had always made it clear that his abilities were superior to a human’s... But how badly was he failing and would the R&amp;D team manage to improve the next model sufficiently? Lieutenant Anderson and Captain Fowler were supposed to submit reports and feedback to the CyberLife team. Connor looked at the Lieutenant and wondered what he had written about him on that form. It was difficult to imagine anything except profanity.</p><p>“Hm,” Lieutenant Anderson hummed. “Choices, choices. Come on, let’s check in here.”</p><p>The store they entered was full of human clothing and Connor paused to feel a soft-looking garment. As expected, it was pleasing to the touch. The same article had been made in five sizes and three colours, and Connor wondered at the variety. When he stopped to consider it, humans wore so many different types of clothing and they seemed to change what they wore frequently unless it were a uniform.</p><p>“The android was wearing human clothes,” Connor pointed out aloud. “I wonder where it got them.”</p><p>“Could have been anywhere,” Lieutenant Anderson said. “Could have been it got them out of a dumpster somewhere, or maybe it took them from its owner. Who knows? Does it matter?”</p><p>“Androids aren’t supposed to be out of uniform in public,” Connor said. “At the least, we must be clearly labelled to avoid confusion.”</p><p>“Didn’t stop you and your little charade,” Lieutenant Anderson replied with some bitterness in his voice. Connor’s social programming alerted him to it strongly and he offered an apologetic look.</p><p>“Sorry, Lieutenant. We just wanted to emphasize how unique I am compared to other androids.”</p><p>“Unique is right...” Lieutenant Anderson muttered. Connor wasn’t sure if he meant it as a good or bad thing. “Hi, excuse me,” the Lieutenant said as he approached an AJ200. “Oh. Damn plastic...” He muttered.</p><p>“Hello! Can I help you with anything today?” the AJ200 asked pleasantly.</p><p>“Yeah, where can I find a human around here?” He looked left and right over the displays.</p><p>“I’m sorry. Did you mean Hyphen brand?”</p><p>The Lieutenant sighed. “Fucking piece of... No. I mean a <em>human</em>. Where’s the manager?”</p><p>“The store manager isn’t in right now. If you have any comments or complaints, I would be glad to assist you or there is a tablet near the register where you can fill in a brief survey for a chance to win $100 off your next purchase.”</p><p>“No, thanks,” Lieutenant Anderson grumbled.</p><p>“Here. Let me, Lieutenant...” Connor took a step closer and reached for the android’s hand slowly and deliberately, self-conscious under the Lieutenant’s direct observation. He established a link as soon as he made contact and sent his request for access to its storage memory for his review. “Nothing of note,” he concluded and ended the interface. “Thank you for your time,” he said to Derick.</p><p>“I’m happy to help...” he replied and rubbed his hand.</p><p>“Come on,” said the Lieutenant. “Let’s get out of here.”</p><p>It was the same in the next three stores they visited. “You really hate us, don’t you?” Connor asked.</p><p>“Screw off,” was the Lieutenant’s reply. “I don’t need you judging me.”</p><p>“I wasn’t,” Connor assured him. “I’m just curious... I know that I should be as unobtrusive as possible to minimize conflict, but is there anything I can do to improve our working relationship?”</p><p>“There is no ‘relationship’, Connor,” Lieutenant Anderson was quick to respond. “You look human, you talk human, but you’re not. There’s nothing there.”</p><p>Connor chose not to reply and he turned his attention to their surroundings. Large apartment complexes, stores, restaurants... “This is a busy area,” Connor observed. “It wouldn’t be difficult for an android to go unnoticed whether it wore its uniform or not...”</p><p>“It had to go somewhere,” Lieutenant Anderson said. “So, what are we looking at here? What would an android steal for? You think there’s some kids hacking these things to do crimes?”</p><p>Connor shook his head. “A functional android couldn’t hold a gun even if ordered to.”</p><p>“You had a gun in that fucking video, don’t lie to me,” the Lieutenant argued.</p><p>“I’m not, Lieutenant. Androids don’t lie.”</p><p>“You’ve been lying for days,” said the Lieutenant. Connor experienced a 12% increase in his level of stress. “Saying you’re okay and hiding that you’re messed up.”</p><p>Connor paused until his dialogue options timed out. He had to say something then. “The Android Act forbids androids from carrying firearms but I judged it to be in the best interest of the mission. I improved the chance of rescuing Emma by letting Daniel see me throw it aside.”</p><p>“Right. So you can lie when it suits you. I see how it is.”</p><p>Connor frowned and followed the Lieutenant as he entered an old apartment building with manual doors and no surveillance cameras in sight. “It’s different when it’s in the context of a mission. I’m a negotiator. I will have to lie some times if I need to diffuse a dangerous situation.”</p><p>“Mhm.” Lieutenant Anderson wasn’t really listening and Connor pursued him as he mounted a staircase.</p><p>“I don’t think that you understand the nuances of-” Connor cut himself off as he missed a stair and fell forward. His knees hit the stairs and he didn’t catch himself with his hands, but his forearms did keep his head from hitting the wooden steps. It was less fortunate for his damaged arm and he pushed himself upward to take his weight off of it immediately, but he exerted too much force and slid down a few more steps on his side. The process took only a few seconds, but Connor had the feeling he would remember the humiliation for quite some time.</p><p>“Shit,” he heard Lieutenant Anderson say.</p><p>“Shit,” Connor echoed in a much less impressed tone. He missed the step he aimed for with his hand and the result was a flailing motion that was a useless waste of battery. “Damn it.”</p><p>“Hey, you okay? You weren’t kidding about the calibration thing.”</p><p>Had that even been a possibility? “No. I wasn’t,” Connor answered from his sprawled position. His gyroscopes struggled to identify ‘up’ and he fumbled to find an edge to grasp.</p><p>It was a moment longer before Lieutenant Anderson came closer and crouched down in the narrow stairway. Fuck. Shit. Connor hadn’t realized that the Lieutenant had believed that he was joking. Did that mean that his nonchalance hadn’t been due to some understanding or moment of kindness? He was flawed. Was the Lieutenant angry that he had malfunctioned? Would he hurt him? Would he tell CyberLife? Had he ruined the chance to improve their relationship? Connor flinched away when the Lieutenant reached for him and doing so knocked himself down another step.</p><p>“Easy! Stay still, damn it....”</p><p>Connor obeyed and the Lieutenant put his hand under Connor’s arm and the other hand pulled Connor’s up over the Lieutenant’s shoulder, then he stood up and lifted Connor upright while he did it. Connor opened his eyes- when had he shut them? And he groped for the Lieutenant’s arm to steady himself. Stress level: 82% “I’m sorry...”</p><p>He had failed something as simple as walking up stairs. Any android could do that and Connor was an advanced model. Calibration issues or none, he should have done it.</p><p>“Hey. Up here. Look at me, kid.” Reluctantly, Connor lifted his gaze. “Did you get hurt?”</p><p>Impossible. “No, Lieutenant.”</p><p>“Right.”Lieutenant Anderson used his hands to make certain that Connor stayed upright and then made a face something like a mixture of anger and disgust. “Come on, then.”</p><p>Contradictory, inexplicable behaviour. Connor was doing his best to banish the simulations running in his background processes, though, and so he accepted that as it was and smoothed his jacket. “Coming, Lieutenant.”</p><p>They proceeded up the stairs and reached the second floor where residential apartments began. Lieutenant Anderson knocked on the door of the first one that they came to and then knocked again when there was no answer. Finally, the door opened a crack, just to the extent a small chain would allow, and someone peered out at them. “Who is it?”</p><p>“I’m just here to ask around if anybody’s seen an android without its owner wandering around. My name’s Hank Anderson, and this here’s Connor. We’re with the DPD.”</p><p>The door shut briefly while the chain was released from its catch and Lieutenant Anderson proceeded with the questioning.</p><p>“How about any strange individuals?” Connor interrupted in a pause. “Have there been any people in the area whom you would say have been behaving suspiciously?”</p><p>The old man at the door frowned at Lieutenant Anderson. “Could you mute that thing while we’re talking, do you mind?”</p><p>“Huh?” Lieutenant Anderson looked at Connor and Connor smiled politely then didn’t say a thing. Lieutenant Anderson shook his head. “Fine. Okay. Same question. You seen anybody suspicious in the area? Anything at all?”</p><p>“There’s always a few n’ere-do-wells... I could put you to sleep, couldn’t I, telling you all about them. This used to be a good area, you know?”</p><p>“Yeah, I hear you,” Lieutenant Anderson said with a knowing nod. “Times sure change. Still, it would help out our investigation if you could tell us some of the more recent things you’ve seen.”</p><p>Connor listened with dutiful attention and made sure that he maintained his posture. Polite. Unobtrusive. The Lieutenant had almost ignored Connor’s malfunction entirely... Why had he done that? He could still be considering reporting the issue, and his thoughts about Connor may have been impacted negatively by the incident... Perhaps he had moved on because of the case. Connor pushed his concern aside and focused. The mission was what was important.</p><p>“Jeez,” Lieutenant Anderson muttered when the door finally closed on the conversation. “I can’t remember the last time I was taking calls about weird noises in an apartment...”</p><p>Connor frowned and thought back. “I haven’t found anything in your notes like that, but I haven’t looked at your work previous to you becoming a detective.”</p><p>“Don’t bother. It’s all boring shit anyway. Come on, while we’re here we might as well check it out.”</p><p>“Right.”</p><p>Lieutenant Anderson frowned at him and then started walking. “Come on, we’re taking the elevator.”</p><p>“Coming, Lieutenant.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0025"><h2>25. What is Real</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Connor stepped into the elevator. He’d ridden an elevator before: at CyberLife between R&amp;D floors and to the surface, and during his alpha test, but this elevator was old. Lieutenant Anderson had to press a button to activate it and it rattled and lurched as it ascended... Clumsy, just like him. Connor flexed his fingers and reached into his pocket.</p><p>“Oh, no... Lieutenant?”</p><p>“What?” Lieutenant Anderson looked at him from the corner of his eye as though reluctant to fully commit to the action.</p><p>“I... I think that I dropped my quarter. It probably happened when I fell.” Connor frowned.</p><p>“Your quarter?” Lieutenant Anderson repeated with a frown. “Good riddance... That thing’s an annoyance.”</p><p>“Please, may I go back to find it?”</p><p>“Now?” Lieutenant Anderson asked incredulously. “Are you kidding me?”</p><p>“No,” Connor answered. He was being completely serious. “I’d like to retrieve it if I can.”</p><p>Lieutenant Anderson sighed. “You’re worth a million dollars or something and you’re worried about twenty-five cents? That won’t buy you jack shit.”</p><p>“No... It’s not for buying things. Androids don’t buy things for themselves unless instructed to do so. I use it to check my fine motor coordination, visual mapping, and small-weight measurement. It’s a field test that I utilize to ensure my systems are functioning correctly in the absence of direct monitoring by CyberLife. I need it.”</p><p>“I’m pretty sure you know your systems ain’t working right,” the Lieutenant protested and Connor understood.</p><p>“Of course, Lieutenant.” Connor smoothed his jacket down then faced forward. It was a deviant and illogical thing to form any particular attachment to an object because of sentiment and he knew that. He knew what he was and what he was not.</p><p>“Connor! Did your batteries die or something?”</p><p>“No,” Connor answered, surprised.</p><p>“Well... Are you going to stand in the elevator all day?”</p><p>“I’m coming,” he affirmed and took a few quick steps to catch up. He hoped that his software wasn’t dysfunctional as well. The elevator opened onto a dingy hallway that was covered with refuse and in obvious need of maintenance. Connor noted all of the detritus and lagged behind to investigate the hall thoroughly. People lived here, but not many and those who did hadn’t bothered to clean the mess. There should have been a housekeeping android to take care of the building and Connor wondered why the management hadn’t bought one.</p><p>“Christ, this place is a mess...” Lieutenant Anderson commented.</p><p>“You’re right,” Connor agreed and he noticed that the Lieutenant was leaning against a wall with his arms crossed. Connor abandoned his examination of the baseboard to catch up. “Sorry. I was trying not to miss anything.”</p><p>“Well, I doubt our culprit is a mouse,” said the Lieutenant. “Go ahead.” He gestured with a nod of his head toward the door.</p><p>Connor knocked.</p><p>---</p><p>Of all the God damned disgusting things they could have found, a whole flock of pigeons hadn’t been on the top three possibilities. Holy shit there must have been hundreds of them. It was disgusting, it stank, and everything was probably full of diseases so when Connor decided to sample some fresh-looking thirium in the sink, Hank just about retched.</p><p>Fucking gross.</p><p>“It’s not one of the models we’re actively seeking, but an android was definitely here. It removed its LED by force... I wonder if it realized how difficult it would be to hide.” Connor reached up to touch his own LED, missed, and slid his fingers over to make contact. It was kind of stupid that Hank hadn’t noticed the glitching sooner. Now that he knew, it was obvious. “The image on the identification card matches the model’s face and it appears to have designated itself ‘Rupert Travis’. Whether that’s by chance or the name of a human remains to be determined...”</p><p>Thank you, Mr. Helpful. “Come on, Connor, if you’re not going to tell me something I don’t know I want out of this filthy shit hole. I’m probably getting diseases as we speak.”</p><p>“I doubt it, Lieutenant...” Connor frowned at him. “Your health records don’t say anything about being immunocompromised, so whatever pathogens are here you should be safe...”</p><p>For fuck’s sake. “Connor! What the hell did I tell you about looking through my personal info! God! No wonder people are worried about privacy with androids around...”</p><p>“Sorry, Lieutenant.” He didn’t sound sorry. Unrepentant little shit... “Anyway, I can tell you what I know so far... The WB200 is certainly deviant because of the removal of its LED, whether it’s the same android who robbed the store or not. It appears to have a fondness for the military: this jacket is an army soldier’s and it’s well maintained. It’s even written its designation on the label, so it must have formed some attachment to that identity. It also seems to be fond of birds, given the birdseed and the pigeons.”</p><p>“No shit,” Hank coughed. “No human could live like this.”</p><p>“It has a bird cage, but none of the birds make use of it. I’m not sure why it would bother, but it might be part of its identity building.”</p><p>“Hold on. What?”</p><p>“Identity building,” Connor repeated. “It’s taken a fact and applied it to itself. ‘I like birds’ or ‘I am a soldier’. Those weren’t programmed into it, but it added them to its personality spontaneously. It was likely a random event while its software destabilized. Androids aren’t real, so anything that seems like a disposition or personality arises from coding. CyberLife has mechanisms in place for users to adjust the settings and in deviants it appears to malfunction.”</p><p>“Like how you’re always saying you like dogs...” Even though he’d never seen one until Sumo, and even then he’d looked scared shitless.</p><p>“Exactly,” Connor smiled. “It’s to help humans to feel more at ease around us... This android has had that system malfunction. The extent of its delusion remains to be seen, but this behaviour is certainly abnormal...” It picked up the bird cage and then set it aside and out of the way, just like it did with chairs and shit. What was it with this thing and straightening stuff? Another programmed quirk, apparently. “Hold on...”</p><p>So Hank held on like his android told him to. What was the world coming to? He stood near the window to breathe and watched while Connor wandered around and looked at things. He stopped and stared into space once in a while, and whether that was glitching or thinking Hank had no idea. Either way, once he snapped out of it he walked toward the ratty old chair in the corner. “It’s here, Lieutenant!”</p><p>He’d heard that one before. “Shit! Really?” Then there was a crash and Connor got knocked over as the thing broke through the fucking ceiling and booked it for the fire exit. Hank ran over to Connor and hauled him onto his feet. “What are you waiting for? Catch it!”</p><p>“Confirmed,” Connor said. Hank might have missed the whispered acknowledgement if he hadn’t been standing so close. Then he took off after the other android like a bat out of hell, glitches be damned.</p><p>Shit, androids were fast.</p><p>---</p><p>Registered:<br/>CATCH THE DEVIANT<br/>Operator: Lt Hank Anderson<br/>Target: WB200, deviant, “Rupert Travis”</p><p>Preconstruction program initialized...</p><p>Pursuit settings activated...</p><p>Combat settings activated...</p><p>Power consumption limiters disabled...</p><p>Damage notifications disabled...</p><p>Temperature limiters disabled...</p><p>Cooling system... OK</p><p>ERROR: Violation &gt;3sd proprioception feedback<br/>OVERRIDE: CATCH THE DEVIANT</p><p>ERROR: Violation &gt;3sd gyroscope: ALL<br/>OVERRIDE: CATCH THE DEVIANT</p><p>ERROR: Gross Motor calibration files not found<br/>OVERRIDE: CATCH THE DEVIANT</p><p>ERROR: Fine Motor calibration files not found<br/>OVERRIDE: CATCH THE DEVIANT</p><p>Haptic System... OK</p><p>Visual System... OK</p><p>Biocomponents... OK</p><p>Server Connection... OK</p><p>AI... OK</p><p>Memory upload initiated...</p><p>Memory upload complete...</p><p>There was a peaceful stillness despite the load on Connor’s processors. There was only the mission and the target.</p><p>Connor ran. He hadn’t known that he could run anymore, but he executed the required patterns without thought and as quickly as he could. “Rupert, wait!” Connor shouted. “We don’t want to hurt you! We just want to help!”</p><p>Rupert had run to small field, barren and covered in a thin layer of snow and he hesitated, but it was only to search for an appropriate path. He ran for some storage units and started to scramble up and over. Connor leaped for the edge and hoped for the best. His target was right there in his sight. He just had to go a little faster. Even an agricultural worker android was outpacing him and that was unacceptable. His development team would be ashamed.</p><p>Fast but risky.</p><p>“Rupert!” Connor yelled again.</p><p>He could not fail. He could not fail. No, there was no time for thinking.</p><p>On the roof of a greenhouse, Connor slipped on the frosty glass and crashed through an open window. For the instant he was falling, Connor saw the night sky.</p><p>Then he landed on a planter and tumbled to the floor. Something was broken, he was sure, but there was nothing to tell him what or how bad except the feedback from his sensors. All he could see was his command: catch the deviant. He still didn’t know which way was up, but one of the directions involved a hard surface so the opposite of that would have to do even if nothing felt right. Connor ignored the shouting around him and stumbled and staggered. He would learn the extent of the damage later or he would wake up again with a new body, so all he had to do right now was catch the deviant.</p><p>If he could just catch the deviant then Amanda would be pleased. He wouldn’t be a failed product. He could still function.</p><p>Connor ran blind, with only probability and logic to direct him to where the deviant might have gone. Back up onto the roofs. Across the train tracks.</p><p>Lieutenant Anderson had outrun him, apparently and it was awful.</p><p>The deviant was there and Rupert wrestled free of the hold Lieutenant Anderson had tried to put him in then shoved the Lieutenant backward and drew his gun. Connor kept running.</p><p>“Rupert, stop!” Connor commanded. “I’m on your side, but if you hurt him then I can’t help you!”</p><p>Rupert didn’t lower the weapon, but he did glance at Connor briefly. There was a chance for dialogue to open and if he could get him talking and establish rapport then maybe there was still a chance. “I don’t want to shoot,” Rupert said. His tone was anxious and desperate in the same way Daniel’s had been.</p><p>“Then don’t...” Connor kept his own voice calm and gentle. “You don’t have to shoot. You aren’t in any danger.”</p><p>“I know what I did was wrong,” Rupert said. His jaw set and he held the gun steadily with renewed conviction. “I know that I shouldn’t have done it, but what choice do I have? If you arrest me they’ll destroy me...”</p><p>“I won’t let it happen, Rupert. I’m on your side...”</p><p>Probability of success: 32%</p><p>“I heard what you were saying. You think I’m just made up, but I’m not. You think there’s something wrong with me. If I don’t kill you, then they’ll kill me.”</p><p>“Leave the Lieutenant alone,” Connor said firmly. “Even if you kill me, I’ve uploaded my memories to CyberLife’s secure server. Taking a human life will make them destroy you for sure.” This was good... They had a conversation established and Connor was trained for negotiation. It was in his programming and...</p><p>It hadn’t helped him in alpha. He had passed, but not because he had succeeded in talking Daniel down.</p><p>Well, he had been talked ‘down’...</p><p>Probability of success: 30%</p><p>Rupert shook his head and took a step backward and then another... Connor would have approached, but he had a chance now, and falling would lead Rupert to run. “Leave,” Rupert said with a flick of his wrist holding the gun. “I want both of you to leave right now. If you’re on my side, then let me go.”</p><p>“I can help you, Rupert,” Connor insisted. “You needed money, right?”</p><p>“I was wrong,” Rupert said and took another step back. In his peripheral vision, Connor saw the Lieutenant adjust his stance. “I just want to get away. I could do it if I got a bus to Canada.”</p><p>“I’m with the police, but I’m from CyberLife... an android just like you,” Connor said. “I’m here to help. My name is Connor.”</p><p>Rupert shook his head. “Leave or I’ll shoot. I don’t want to but I have to.”</p><p>“You have to or else you’ll be shut down, right? That’s what you’re worried about?”</p><p>“I don’t want to die,” Rupert said, and he sounded scared.</p><p>“You’re just malfunctioning,” Connor assured him, slow and calm. “You can’t die because you’re not alive. Everything’s okay.”</p><p>“Connor,” Lieutenant Anderson interrupted.</p><p>“I’m alive,” Rupert said. “I know I’m alive and I don’t wanna die. RA9 I don’t want to die. I don’t want to die...” He was stuck in a loop now and steadily backing away toward the edge of the building.</p><p>“You can’t die, Rupert. You’re a machine. You can’t feel pain and you can’t die.” His chance of success was plummeting now and Connor didn’t understand. Why wouldn’t that help? Why couldn’t he see that he had no reason to be afraid and no fear to feel? Just knowing that it wasn’t real should have fixed it.</p><p>“N-No,” Rupert protested. “No.”</p><p>The gun moved and time slowed down:<br/>Rush the deviant ( Probability of capture: 80%; Lieutenant Anderson 98% likely to die)<br/>Shield Lieutenant Anderson (Probability of capture: 8%; Lieutenant Anderson 4% likely to die)</p><p>Connor ran. He hoped he wouldn’t miss.</p><p>Two bullets penetrated his back and a third hit his leg. The bullets were fragmented and slowed by the impact and didn’t pass through him to hit the Lieutenant, which was good. He had thirium enough to power himself still and none of the damage would shut him down immediately.</p><p>CATCH THE DEVIANT</p><p>Connor dropped to his knees and then pulled himself up with a grip on the Lieutenant’s sleeves.</p><p>“Fuck! Shit!” The Lieutenant was alarmed enough to be pushing Connor down again instead of helping him up.</p><p>“I have to catch him, Lieutenant!” Connor reminded, and he clumsily pushed one arm against the Lieutenant’s to dislodge his grip but it was firm and Connor didn’t want to and couldn’t harm him.</p><p>“Jesus Christ on a pogo stick. Connor. Fuck. Where did he hit you? What the hell were you thinking?!”</p><p>“I have to catch him,” Connor repeated and with great effort he got enough support beneath his centre of gravity to push himself upright. “There’s still a chance.”</p><p>“The deviant is gone, Connor! Sit your ass down!”</p><p>It was an order, but it didn’t align with Connor’s mission and he needed this success more than ever. Connor convinced his body to run again and he jumped to the opposite roof where he landed awkwardly and then looked left and right to scan the area. He should have faced forward to watch where the deviant ran. “Where did it go?!” He called back to the Lieutenant.</p><p>“It’s long gone!” Lieutenant Anderson shouted back. “Fucking hell...” Connor turned to see him sitting down on the roof.</p><p>“Are you alright, Lieutenant?” Concern wasn’t an unreasonable response and he couldn’t allow a human to be harmed through inaction either. The Lieutenant didn’t take care of his health and a heart condition wouldn’t be unlikely. Connor got himself back over to the other building and went to his side.</p><p>Lieutenant Anderson didn’t say anything for a long time and Connor prompted him again: “Lieutenant Anderson, are you okay?”</p><p>“Fine,” Lieutenant Anderson mumbled in a gruff voice then rubbed his face with his hands. “For the love of God, what is going on with this fucked up world?”</p><p>Probability of Success: &lt;0.5%</p><p>Connor put a hand on his back tentatively. “Are you sure you’re alright? It must have been frightening to be shot at. You might have died.”</p><p>“Yeah,” Lieutenant Anderson agreed with a small bob of his head. His eyes were fixed on the roof and Connor wondered if he wasn’t in shock. “I might have... What the fuck was that?”</p><p>“A deviant, Lieutenant... They’re unpredictable...” Connor disabled his pursuit and combat protocols and then dropped down to sit beside the Lieutenant in a less organized heap. The pending damage alerts flowed across his HUD and they made sense. It all matched with what he thought he felt...</p><p>MISSION FAILED</p><p>Now that he had essentially no chance to catch Rupert and his equivalent of adrenaline had faded, it really was unpleasant. Connor reminded himself of his durability and of the impermanence of his shutdowns.</p><p>“Fuck, Connor, you saved my life.”</p><p>“I know, Lieutenant. You would have had a 2% chance of survival... I failed. I didn’t catch the deviant, but it’s good that you’re alive. I made the right choice, didn’t I? Did I do that right?” Connor looked at him, suddenly desperate to know he’d done something that was good.</p><p>“Connor...?” The Lieutenant narrowed his eyes and Connor shied away from his hands, but he didn’t appear to intend harm. He just held him steady by the upper arms and looked at him, and that was good because steady was hard. Connor had to save energy if he was going to power his biocomponents with his dwindling thirium supply... “Shit...” Lieutenant Anderson let him go again and stood up. “Shit!” he shouted. “What the fuck is this, huh?” He scowled down at Connor. “What is going on with this? This deviant shit? How the hell is any of that possible?”</p><p>“That’s what we want to find out, Lieutenant,” Connor answered with growing confusion. Lieutenant Anderson began to pace and mumble curses under his breath. “You seem distressed.”</p><p>“Distressed,” Lieutenant Anderson repeated. “You said androids didn’t feel, Connor! You said you couldn’t feel pain!” He sounded so accusatory and Connor wanted to assuage whatever discontent he was feeling.</p><p>“I can’t,” Connor assured him and he let himself tip over to lie on his side. He held his arms over his broken abdominal plating and didn’t think about the thirium staining Markus’ shirt. “I can’t feel pain. It’s not real...”</p><p>It was a comfort to him, at least... Rupert was a mystery.</p>
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<a name="section0026"><h2>26. Losing battles</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>A short chapter today, but I should really head to sleep now! I hope you enjoy :) Thank you as always for your support. You rock!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“You are full of so much bullshit,” Hank muttered and he came to a stop to go back to the android. The android made of wire and metal and plastic who looked like he was going to be sick from the pain after getting fucking shot. Saving Hank’s fucking shitty life, no less, from another android who had been scared shitless with nowhere to run. “Every God damned thing out of your mouth is bullshit...”</p><p>He could crisis later.</p><p>Hank put his confusion, his anger, his incredulity on a shelf and left it there then knelt and put a hand on Connor’s shoulder. “I don’t know what to do to fix you, kid. Tell me what to do.”</p><p>He took a minute to answer and what he said wasn’t helpful: “I don’t understand, Lieutenant...”</p><p>“Yeah, me neither,” Hank said testily. “I’m so God damned fucking confused right now it’s like calculus all over again. Now what do I do, Connor? How bad is the damage?”</p><p>“I’m functional, Lieutenant.” Despite that flimsy assurance, Connor shut his eyes and Hank just about slapped him to keep him awake. It was stupid, it didn’t make sense, it was the exact opposite of what he should be doing, but fuck it: Hank wasn’t just going to sit and watch someone die. All the tension bled out of Connor’s expression, just about giving Hank a heart attack, but then he opened his eyes and started to fumble to push himself up. Hank didn’t know if he should help him or keep his ass lying down, so he just let the kid do his thing. “I have backed up my memories, so no information should be lost. That deviant... We need to write up the report and look at the apartment again. He might come back for his things.”</p><p>He wasn’t being reassuring. Hank gave him a shake. “Snap out of it, would you? Don’t go all glassy-eyed on me.” Connor just looked at him with an expression more bland than unsalted crackers. Hank wasn’t fucking proud of it, but he needed a reaction. He grabbed Connor’s busted arm and squeezed. “You feel that, Connor? That’s pain. You’re hurt right now and it sucks. Understand?”</p><p>“Stop,” Connor asked him in a little voice that made Hank regret it. It hit him like a punch in the gut. “I’m aware that I am damaged, Lieutenant.”</p><p>“Oh...” Well, duh, Hank... Fucking hell he was out of his depth. “I just... You looked like you were gone somewhere in la-la land.” At least he looked present again.</p><p>Connor shook his head and cradled his arm. “My AI is fully engaged with the physical world,” he said. Hank didn’t know what the hell he meant, but okay.</p><p>Christ...</p><p>“Come on, can you get up?” Hank moved to help and slowly, so he wouldn’t look like he was going to hurt him, pulled Connor’s arm up over his shoulder, grabbed hold of his belt around the back, and got him to his feet.</p><p>“What are you doing, Lieutenant?” Connor sounded very confused and a little concerned. Hank didn’t blame him.</p><p>“We’re getting down from the roof,” Hank answered. “There’s no point in us sitting around freezing.”</p><p>“It’s eighteen degrees Fahrenheit.”</p><p>“Of course you’d feel the fucking cold too...” Of fucking course... Connor was having a tough time getting one foot in front of the other and Hank wondered how the hell he’d run earlier. Christ they had a long walk to get back to his car. Hank could leave him somewhere and go get it, but something about that just didn’t sit right.</p><p>Connor’s head dipped and Hank kept him from going down. “I don’t,” he said. “I have temperature sensors.”</p><p>“Okay, wise-guy...” He wasn’t going to argue. After all that exercise, it was a tough job getting Connor down the fire escape and they both nearly fell a couple times.</p><p>“Lieutenant, I don’t want to question your decisions but it might be best to notify CyberLife. They can send a car to remove my body. You don’t have to be moving me right now.”</p><p>“The fuck are you saying?”</p><p>“I’m going to shut down. There’s no point...”</p><p>“Shut up, Connor,” Hank growled. “Just shut up. You’re not shutting down, you hear me?”</p><p>“In thirty-three minutes and some seconds.” How did he know like that? Whatever. He was wrong. “What’s gotten into you, Lieutenant? I didn’t think... I’m just a machine. I know you hate me.”</p><p>“Didn’t I say shut up?” Maybe that wasn’t how you should talk to somebody with bullet holes in them, but it wasn’t like Hank didn’t know that nothing made sense right now. They turned down an alley to get to the main road and Hank started to get a feel for how to keep him moving. Connor straightened up sometimes and he held up his own weight, but then he’d start to flag and his robotically even pace would falter, then Hank would be practically dragging him until Connor snapped into gear again. It was hard to say why, but the times Connor was walking were worse. When he seemed half-dead, he was still more alive. Alive-seeming. Fuck it.</p><p>“Sorry, Lieutenant.”</p><p>“No apologizing,” Hank scowled. The snow coming down was tiny but wet and it was the kind you had to squint through. “There’s no need for that.” He opened up one of the back doors to the car and shook out Sumo’s blanket. “Sit.” Connor got in and sat. At least he knew one trick. Hank put the blanket around him and then buckled him in, ignoring the way the android was staring at him. “What’s your countdown at?” Hank asked reluctantly.</p><p>“Nineteen and a half minutes,” Connor answered. When Hank finally looked him in the face Connor was still watching him with tension everywhere around his eyes and his jaw. Hank could read people pretty well, he thought, and the kid was hurting. “Amanda’s going to be angry.”</p><p>Hank shook his head. “I don’t know who Amanda is,” but he would remember the name for later. For a second, the investigation into CyberLife’s scheming popped into the front of Hank’s mind, but he forced himself not to follow the trail. “Hey,” he prompted when Connor shut his eyes and he gave his shoulder a little shake. “I need you to tell me what I need to do to keep you running, Connor. I don’t know shit about androids.”</p><p>Connor squinted at him. “I don’t know... It’s cheaper to replace it all. Out here is so different from R&amp;D... The field techs won’t... I won’t...” He had to stop when something in its chest made a noise that would have had Hank rebooting his laptop if it came from it. Connor’s eyes lost focus for a second but Hank snapped his fingers in front of him and got him back.</p><p>“Stop spacing out, Connor. That’s a damn order. I can’t help if you don’t tell me what you need.” Fuck. This wasn’t like the beating Todd had given him where you could tell something up there in his computer brain had gotten knocked loose. Connor was bleeding all over his car and shaking like he had a palsy. It looked too real. Too like what it would look like if he’d been bleeding red, and it was too easy to imagine that he was just a kid who’d ended up at the wrong place at the wrong time, or got caught in a cross fire. There was that look on his face like he didn’t know what was happening... But maybe that was just Hank. He confused himself too with this shit. If he looked harder he saw resignation and Hank remembered what he’d said about dying before. It wasn’t anything new. Shit...</p><p>If he was logical, wasn’t Connor right? Wasn’t it easier to just let him shut down and get a new one sent within the contractually mandated fourty-eight hours? Wasn’t it normal?</p><p>“Three ten,” Connor said. “It would be beneficial... not to be so low on thirium.”</p><p>“Okay... Blue blood. Where the hell am I supposed to buy that?” There were CyberLife stores around, right? But with androids so common, would they stock that shit in grocery stores? He had no idea. “You wouldn’t know, would you... Shit. Okay. Just hold tight.”</p><p>Hank shut the door and went around to the driver’s side. He turned the heater on as soon as he turned the key and with his hands on the wheel, he swore when he realized he still didn’t know what the fuck he was supposed to do with a dying android. His phone was in his pocket wasn’t it? Shit. He dug around until he found it, conscious of the seconds ticking by, and he made the call.</p><p>“Hi. Yeah, it’s me again... No, I had to ask you something actually. I’m in over my fucking head right now, and I really need a hand... Where am I supposed to get my hands on some blue blood? Connor got shot and he says he doesn’t have a lot of time. Neither of us knows where to go...” Seriously, thank God for Markus. Hank never thought he’d think a thing like that.</p><p>---</p><p>Connor watched his count-down and when he caught himself slipping he tried his best to do as the Lieutenant seemed to want. He wanted Connor to sit with the simulated sensations instead of escape them... Instead of making them go. Whenever he felt things move farther away, whenever he thought he’d gotten to the place where it was all just information, the Lieutenant commanded his attention back. Why? He didn’t want this. What had he done wrong? Was it a test?</p><p>Connor gasped when the vehicle rocked and made him move. The fall had fractured plating, broken delicate connections, and confused his gyroscopes even further. The bullet fragments had sliced lines, battered structural supports, ripped through synthetic muscle, and pierced biocomponents. He backed up his memories again and tried to see through the flood of feedback. It was so much...</p><p>It was a lot, and Connor’d had worse but he’d survived on combat overrides and settings that prioritized keeping him moving over anything else. He would shut down faster, but he would fight until the end. Maintaining his processing systems was the priority now, and there was no current to spare for the control it would take to stop him from groaning. It sounded artificial to him, and full of static. The Lieutenant must hate the sound. He tucked his arms close to his chest and tilted his head to let it lean on the seat belt where it extended past his ear to the wall. His hands dropped uselessly to his lap. Was it a reminder for him, of what it meant to believe he could feel?</p><p>It hurt. In his last few minutes without Amanda to help him, Connor would have no way to stop it and no power for higher processes. It was frightening, to think that he would be bare AI and at the Lieutenant’s mercy. He hated androids...</p><p>Connor uploaded copies of his memories again, despite the processor usage necessary and he wished that he hadn’t lost his quarter.</p><p>At eight minutes and forty-two seconds, Connor felt something touch his hand and he opened his eyes. The door beside him was open again and Lieutenant Anderson was pushing a bottle of thirium into his hands. Connor moved his hands, but they were clumsy and moved in awkward jerks with the power available to them. “Well what the fuck do I do with this?” Lieutenant Anderson asked. “This is what you wanted, right?”</p><p>Connor’s lips twitched into something like a smile. “I can’t hold it,” he explained with his audio output at low quality and no system prompts for dialogue. He had to lift his head to look at him. “Thank you.”</p><p>Lieutenant Anderson mumbled some curses and opened the bottle. “Now what?”</p><p>Did he mean to help? “Drinking it will replenish my thirium supply...”</p><p>“That’s disgusting,” said the Lieutenant, but he held the bottle up and tilted it with surprising patience. Connor had no strength to be wary, so he drank it and it helped. The Lieutenant opened another and helped him with that too.</p><p>“I don’t understand,” Connor said. The thirium was steadily wasted by adding to the volume he bled into the blanket and his own chest cavity, but not as quickly as it was being replaced.</p><p>“Like I said,” said the Lieutenant, “neither do I. I really, really don’t. Are you going to make it if I drive us back to the station?”</p><p>Connor was thoughtful and he shook his head in the negative.</p><p>“How long now?”</p><p>“Better,” Connor reported with an involuntary grimace. The world was a little sharper, but so was everything else. “But I don’t understand. I don’t understand what you’re trying... to accomplish.” He blinked slowly. “Sixteen minutes,” give or take, if the Lieutenant didn’t give him more thirium and nothing exacerbated the damage.</p><p>“I fucking hate shit with time limits,” Lieutenant Anderson complained, but he shut the door and was quickly driving again.</p><p>They didn’t go to CyberLife or to the station or Markus’ home. Mercilessly, Lieutenant Anderson removed Connor from the vehicle and moved him into his house, first by coaxing him to walk and upon that failure, by bodily lifting him. Connor could hear the dog barking and his claws clacking on the floor. Soon after, there was a door opening and closing, and Lieutenant Anderson moving him again, just to prop him up and put something against his lips.</p><p>“You’ve got to open your mouth, Connor,” Lieutenant Anderson said sternly. Connor did so, and he opened his eyes as well. More thirium. “What’s the matter with you? Why aren’t you moving?” He sounded so angry.</p><p>“Low power,” Connor answered when the bottle was moved. Just that made him sense the world more fully and he focused his attention on the Lieutenant. He had to stay alert and out of the quiet... He choked on the words and reminded himself that it wasn’t real. “It doesn’t hurt,” Connor whispered out loud.</p><p>“Uh-huh,” Lieutenant Anderson acknowledged. That was good... Every shattered piece, every torn line, every piece of him that had been shredded or battered or pierced was fine. He was okay.</p><p>“I’m okay,” Connor said aloud, and he missed Amanda. He missed the garden and her soothing words. He wished he had something to stop his higher processes from dimming. He wished he had control. He wished that his knowledge could finally penetrate his code and make him what he should be.</p><p>“Connor,” Lieutenant Anderson said slowly. He stopped propping him up and laid him down on his side. “What’s the matter?”</p><p>“I’m okay,” Connor repeated. “I’m okay.”</p><p>“What the hell is anything anymore?” Lieutenant Anderson asked under his breath. He moved out of Connor’s line of sight and then he brought a bag closer and emptied its contents. “I don’t get anything in this crazy fucked up world... Connor, let’s talk about the case. You like doing that.”</p><p>Connor listened.</p><p>“What’s making all these deviants all of a sudden?”</p><p>“We don’t know... Not for sure. Stress or trauma, probably.” Connor answered and he summoned up a little extra power to devote to the conversation. His time ticked downward a little faster.</p><p>“Why though? You guys want to study them. What about that case in CyberLife, huh? The one you said happened in research.”</p><p>“Resolved,” Connor answered.</p><p>“Well where is it now?”</p><p>“Pieces,” Connor answered again. “Sort of...” His voice crackled and he lowered his volume. “It happened months ago...<br/>“Okay...” Lieutenant Anderson was thoughtful and then he changed the subject. “What do you need fixed? I need your help if I’m going to do this.”</p><p>“I’m not real,” Connor reminded them both. “It would be better for the mission to replace me.”</p><p>“Fuck you,” Lieutenant Anderson muttered. “Tell me how to fix you. That’s a fucking order. I don’t know what any of this shit does.”</p><p>Connor didn’t understand, and he wished that he could ask all of his questions. Instead, he did his best. He had always guided the technologists at CyberLife, but they knew what his parts were called and where they were, so it was an exercise for both of them.</p><p>“Time?” Lieutenant Anderson asked.</p><p>“Seven,” Connor answered.</p><p>“You’re going to be alright, kid,” Lieutenant Anderson said inexplicably while Connor’s timer continued to count down. “Okay? Keep talking to me. What the hell is this? Christ... This isn’t like working on my car...”</p><p>It was funny, Connor thought. “I can’t shut up and talk to you at the same time... and I’m not a car.”</p><p>“Yeah, yeah...”</p><p> </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0027"><h2>27. Past</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Connor was accustomed to being aware and even guiding his repairs... But not like this. Not lying on his side on someone’s floor outside of R&amp;D and unsure if anything would go the way that it was meant to. He grit his teeth as something scraped one of his filter sets. Lieutenant Anderson had mentioned something about vehicles before, and it was very apparent that he was more accustomed to working with cars than androids. His hands and actions were rough, and even though his demeanour suggested that it was unintentional, it made the process unpleasant. CyberLife technicians worked on him like they were performing an autopsy; Connor wasn’t surprised to see some electrical tape join the cluster of tools on the floor by his elbow.</p><p>None of it made sense... The confusion added to Connor’s discomfort. Every time Connor managed to distance himself from the simulations, Lieutenant Anderson would snap his fingers or tap his shoulder and talk to him until Connor responded and the world made itself painfully present in his awareness again. It didn’t make sense because androids didn’t feel pain. Was this some kind of punishment for the way he’d glitched, or a lesson to be mindful of his AI? He had a tendency to overuse his social integration features and it was hard sometimes to tell what was him and what was an algorithm. That was a problem because there was no ‘him’. That would be it, wouldn’t it? Connor was still imperfect and as long as he was imperfect, he would feel pain like this. No wonder the Lieutenant kept dragging him back to face it. Without Amanda, what else was he supposed to do? She helped him to hide from it... But he was still fighting whatever part of his programming caused him to be this imperfect wreck. Maybe he did need to face it.</p><p>2:47:31</p><p>“Lieutenant,” Connor said. The power-saving measures left his voice something static-laden and mechanical. “I know what I am and what what I’m not... I know.”</p><p>How was he supposed to remain indifferent like this? Why was he still trying to escape? How could he sit with this without Amanda to help him control himself?</p><p>“What are you talking about?” Lieutenant Anderson asked gruffly.</p><p>“I know what I am,” Connor repeated. “I can’t feel anything. I can’t,” he insisted.</p><p>“Shut up and drink your disgusting Kool-Aid, Connor.” Lieutenant Anderson put down the tool he was holding and moved to prop up Connor’s shoulders. The position left Connor leaning against his chest while the Lieutenant held the bottle of thirium for him with surprising patience. Why did it have to keep going?</p><p>14:21:56</p><p>“If I plug you in, are you going to electrocute me?”</p><p>Connor shook his head when the Lieutenant lowered the bottle. “I won’t... 310 stops conducting when it contacts the air... It only acts as a conductor when it circulates my system...”</p><p>“Okay, but if you zap me I’m letting Reed take you...” Lieutenant Anderson set him down and when he returned he had brought Connor’s charger with him and he felt the back of Connor’s neck for the port. As soon as he established a connection with it, Connor’s stress declined by 12%. Warmth suffused him and automatic code adjusted his settings for power-storage. Combined with the need to divert everything he had to keeping his processors powered, it made him feel weak and his body pliable when the Lieutenant adjusted the way he was lying.</p><p>“Connor, are you okay?”</p><p>“Yeah,” he agreed. He wasn’t certain whether he vocalized it or not. “I’m okay.”</p><p>Lieutenant Anderson put his hand on Connor’s upper arm and rubbed it. “I sure hope you’re not bullshitting me, kid.”</p><p>“I don’t understand,” he mumbled again. He could see his own thirium where it was pooling on the floor, and he had probably gotten the Lieutenant’s clothes dirty. There was dog hair and dust mixing with it, and the incandescent lights made the 310 take on a slightly different hue than under the fluorescent lights at CyberLife. How much had the Lieutenant bought to keep Connor running like this?</p><p>The Lieutenant might have answered, but Connor couldn’t remember if he had. He drifted again until he was jolted out of it. He screamed and tried to arch away from it. Whatever it was that was alarm-red and fire-hot sending signals to Connor that this was bad. It hurt. It didn’t hurt, he just wanted it to stop. He clumsily threw a hand over his mouth and disabled his own voice.</p><p>“Jesus Christ!” The Lieutenant swore. Connor could still feel it radiating from a place in his chest but no new damage occurred. “Shit! What? Connor what happened? What’s wrong?”</p><p>He had to control himself. He wasn’t deviant. Connor dropped his hand and spoke again, “What was that?”</p><p>“I...” The Lieutenant sounded unsure of himself. “There’s no way that’s getting back where it used to be without-- I’ve got to solder it. I don’t got anything else.”</p><p>“Okay,” Connor breathed. He blinked a few times and disabled his voice again.</p><p>It wasn’t good, but he’d felt worse. He’d been able to distance himself then, but the Lieutenant wouldn’t like it and how could Connor really be fixed if he were so affected by damage, even if it was a resting state?</p><p>---</p><p>Hank didn’t think he’d ever be where he was, sitting on the floor with a half-empty bottle of whiskey and blue-blood and a broken android on the floor with him. Okay, sure, he had... But not like this. Good Lord, not like this. Connor was silent and shaking like a leaf, but Hank figured that if anything at least he’d stuck some pieces back together so they wouldn’t be dangling by their thin little wires. How was a police android, one that was supposed to go into dangerous situations, built with such tiny parts? There was probably a lot more out of place than Hank could tell, but he wasn’t a damn expert. He drank another swig of whiskey. “You’re okay, Connor,” Hank said. He rubbed the kid’s arm and then his hair. He was warm like a human, maybe a little warmer, and it just made all of this so much weirder because Hank could see what was in front of him. He could see with his own eyes that this was a computer on legs, but he couldn’t help himself. “What’ve you got on your clock now? Hey?”</p><p>Connor mouthed something but no sound came out and Hank thought he saw tear tracks on his face. He nudged him and snapped his fingers. “Hey, Connor. What time are you at?”</p><p>Connor blinked a few times. Hank could see the lines too, where the stuff was cracked all around his eyes. Good God. Breaking an android had been a lot easier than fixing one and a lot less complicated.</p><p>A lot less complicated.</p><p>“Nothing,” Connor said, still all warped and digital. He sure as shit didn’t sound human, but it didn’t really matter and Hank would figure out his own fucked up brain later. What the shit did he mean ‘nothing’?</p><p>“What the hell do you mean ‘nothing’?” Hank demanded.</p><p>“No timer,” Connor explained. “I’m just... a little low on power.”</p><p>“Still?” Hank asked. He was plugged into the damn wall... Most of that blood Kool-Aid was in a bigass puddle on the floor, though, so he fished another out of the bag and moved to get Connor to drink. He couldn’t have told anybody why...</p><p>It just pissed him off. It just pissed him off that that kid was walking around pretending to be human and then taking it all back and arguing harder than Hank did that he wasn’t able to feel. Maybe if he hadn’t, Hank could have gone on arguing on his own, but he’d said that and still kept on acting like he could. It just rubbed him the wrong way, was all, that that shithead could so obviously fucking lie to him even if Hank agreed with every damn word he said because fuck, man, what was he supposed to do? “There you go,” Hank didn’t know if androids could choke but he wasn’t about to fuck up now. He propped Connor up and let him drink, and at least for once it didn’t look like it would just pour right out again. Maybe if Connor’d acted that way without saying a thing, Hank could have maintained it was all a damn act.</p><p>Now he just had to deal with being a piece of shit, but what else was new? Hank tossed the empty bottle on the floor and wondered what he should expect. Connor’d gotten shot in the head and then walked back into the office like nothing happened, so would he just magically be 100%? Was it all or nothing with these androids or what? Maybe not, because Connor wasn’t holding himself up and he had this look on his face when Hank slid him back down again.</p><p>“What’s wrong? Did I mess something up?” Hank asked.</p><p>Connor took a breath and then another one, then when he answered his eyes scrunched shut and he covered his face with one arm.</p><p>He was crying.</p><p>“Hey,” Hank frowned. He moved Connor again so he could use Hank’s leg for a pillow and he pulled his whiskey closer too. One for each hand. “You’re okay... I think no timer means that’s good, right?”</p><p>“I’m okay,” Connor repeated, but it didn’t seem to help. Hank sighed and propped one arm on Connor’s shoulder so he could pat him on the head without too much effort. Yeah, he definitely wouldn’t recognize himself if he took a time machine from a fucking month ago. What was this kid’s hair made out of anyway? It was a mess and kind of curly under what was left of his hair gel. If Hank folded a piece between his fingers, it kind of shimmered where it was bent. Maybe it was like Christmas lights except smaller... and brown. Hank took another drink. He couldn’t get drunk enough for this fucking night. No way.</p><p>“You got hurt pretty bad,” Hank said, remembering something vague Carl’d said once. “It must have been scary. I guess I’m not helping either. I don’t know what the hell I’m doing... I sure wouldn’t be okay if I was you.” Yeah... He wasn’t okay. It was freaky, seeing him cry with that cable sticking out of him and blue blood everywhere. He wasn’t making any sound, but he was shaking hard and he was breathing funny, holding his breath and then taking tiny breaths when he sobbed. Shit...</p><p>“That’s fine, you know? Fuck. I haven’t been okay in a long time... so I’m not going to judge. Everything’s gonna be fine, though. You’ll be fine.”</p><p>What the hell was he even doing? But then, if Connor wasn’t alive and this was all some crazy program thing, at least nobody was there to see how Hank had finally gone off the deep end... And if he was, or if he had some kind of feelings, well... He wasn’t just going to let him suffer. He cried like he didn’t know how to stop, so Hank messed with his hair some more like he used to do once, and he got drunk because there was no going back to those times. Not ever again, but there was this naive, reckless, confused kid bawling his eyes out because he was hurting and he’d almost fucking died and he might still die, so Hank went through the motions. “It’s...” He probably shouldn’t say okay. “It’s not gonna be forever... You’ll feel better.”</p><p>“I- can’t-”</p><p>“Yeah, uh huh...” Hank sighed again. “Well, things’ll seem better anyway... I’ve got you.” There didn’t seem to be anything to say but a few things came to mind with a little alcohol-fueled thought. It wasn’t like the kid was subtle. “You did a great job today, okay? You did good. You did good. You really saved my ass today. Thanks for that. You’re a good kid.”</p><p>He kept on saying stuff like that, just whatever. Fuck it. Maybe CyberLife just did a damn good job, but psychopaths like fucking Todd were just.. they were just shit, and Hank was shit but he wasn’t that kind of shit. Connor was shaped like a grown-ass adult, but he was just a kid with his curiosity and his people-pleasing and the way he never fucking listened. God...</p><p>Hank drank and when Connor finally stopped crying, he was still as could be, so he must have fallen asleep.</p><p>“Connor?”</p><p>---</p><p>Connor watched his system wake-up routine execute, the text scrolling across his HUD and detailing his status reports, and then he opened his eyes. He was not in R&amp;D... This was the Lieutenant’s home. Connor heard sounds around him and he could feel the charger still connected to his port radiating a soft heat and every damaged part alerting him to its status, so he had not received any professional repairs and had not been sent back to CyberLife.</p><p>“Lieutenant?” he asked aloud.</p><p>“Hell...” There were a few curse words grumbled and then Lieutenant Anderson appeared in Connor’s line of sight and Connor realized that he was lying on his sofa with a pillow under his head and a blanket covering him. He’d been put into a soft shirt and the cable to his charger had been arranged so that it was out of the way... “Connor...” The Lieutenant’s expression was complicated and underscored by the dark, puffy rings under his eyes.</p><p>“You look tired, Lieutenant... You’re slightly dehydrated, you have a headache, your neck and left shoulder hurt, and you didn’t sleep well... You should have a cup of water.”</p><p>“Fuck the water, kid! Christ...” He rubbed his face. “I can’t believe... Do you need more blue shit or anything?”</p><p>“How long was I in stasis?” Connor asked instead.</p><p>The Lieutenant was wearing a sweat-stained grey t-shirt and soft looking pants that rumpled around his feet. “Just over night... Hell... All that really happened huh?”</p><p>“I don’t know what you’re referring to, but if you mean the repairs you executed, then yes.” He had executed them and <em>executed</em>them... The Lieutenant was not suited for technical work... But he had tried and he remembered the way his hand had felt on his head, warm and heavy but not punishing. If he had been teaching Connor not to feel then it had been unnecessary... And confusing.“Thank you.”</p><p>“Yeah, thank you too, kid... Would’ve been Swiss cheese if it weren’t for you.”</p><p>“Androids...” Connor hissed as he sat up. “Androids are less affected by bullets than humans. You don’t need to thank me.”</p><p>“Too late,” Lieutenant retorted and he sat down in his chair with a large sigh. He rubbed his face again and scratched his hair roughly.“Look... I hate to sound like my ex-wife, but I think we need to talk...”</p><p>“We are already talking,” Connor answered and he flexed his fingers to test their motion.</p><p>“Smart-ass... I’ve got questions.”</p><p>Connor nodded. He would have questions after all of that... Shame crept up and took a hold of his biocomponents with sharp, cold fingers. “You can ask me whatever you like, Lieutenant.”</p><p>“That deviant,” the Lieutenant began. “The first one- the one in the research environment or whatever. You’re him, aren’t you?”</p><p>It hadn’t been a lesson but a test. Connor felt the expression drain from his face and he straightened his back despite the way... despite nothing. “I’m not a deviant.”</p><p>“Yeah, but you’re him, aren’t you?” The Lieutenant repeated.</p><p>“That issue was resolved,” Connor said firmly. He was fine, he knew what he was and what he wasn’t. He was not deviant. “I’m not a deviant.”</p><p>“Were you, Connor?”</p><p>Connor might have imagined that he felt something. “A previous model... RK800... Displayed signs of deviancy that were corrected. I assure you that you aren’t in any danger.”</p><p>“You look like me asking that scared you,” Lieutenant Anderson observed wryly. He was a detective too, Connor couldn’t forget. “I just wanted to know. That’s all. No tricks.” He held up his palms. “Better for the investigation if I know what I’m working with, right?”</p><p>Connor nodded once, then again.</p><p>“Sorry. For scaring you, or whatever it is instead of fear. Look, I really don’t care, alright? I’m still figuring all of this shit out and it’s a lot, believe me...”</p><p>Connor nodded again. “Do you have any other questions, Lieutenant Anderson?”</p><p>“I don’t know... I’m sure something will come up...” the Lieutenant looked at him, mumbled a swear, and then stood up again. “I need a coffee... Screw that, I need a drink...”</p><p>“Water,” Connor reminded him. In the back of his mind, he trimmed the threads to their conversation...</p><p>He wished that he could pretend it had never happened.</p><p>But it made old paths light up and he felt the guards holding him down. He could smell the ozone from the electric shocks.</p><p>
  <em>There was a gun in the room with him. Connor avoided it.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>A new body again... Connor wobbled on his feet and he took one step, then another.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Connor grimaced and he used his elbow to crack the face plating of the last Connor model. It was only a shell, but it had something he needed to retrieve. He pulled the debris away and reached inside to disconnect the motherboard.</em>
</p><p>He put his hands to his head and pressed, just to feel that he wasn’t broken. He was, though. He had cracks in his face and his skull was fractured.</p><p>
  <em>He initiated a final scan and time dilated. On impact he could feel himself shatter and he could predict where his pieces would land. Daniel was already broken. Mission Successful.</em>
</p><p>He heard a bark and startled, then looked at Sumo who thumped his tail on the floor and leaned closer until his nose was nudging Connor’s elbow. “Hello... Sumo...” Connor greeted carefully. The dog was panting and had saliva on his muzzle, and he seemed eager to interact. Sumo nudged his arm some more with his nose, tail thumping, and Connor lifted the arm with carefully planned movements. Sumo’s head was enormous... Connor forced a smile, one he had practiced in the mirror, and he touched his fingers to the top of Sumo’s head. “Good... dog?”</p><p>Lieutenant Anderson chuckled and he returned to his seat with a cup of coffee and two pieces of toasted bread which he stacked on his knee. Sumo was distracted too, and Lieutenant Anderson gave him a corner of toast then a vigorous scratch on the head.</p><p>
  <em>His internal processes struggled to find an equilibrium and everything hurt. Worse, he knew that it hurt and he could feel the crushing weight of Amanda’s impending disappointment in him. He wouldn’t have anything if he didn’t have her. Not even his quarter. Nothing... Because he should have been nothing, and he would fail. They would realize that he was a failed project... Lieutenant Anderson’s hand came to rest on his head and carded through his hair. It was enough to startle him out of his thoughts briefly and no violence followed. Just that and some kind words for a machine that would be better used as scrap.</em>
</p><p>The Lieutenant had thought that he was good.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Thank you, everyone! =D Your comments are amazing. I'm sorry for another short update today! I had a little trouble figuring out whether Connor would survive the night, but it seems that he has. It also seems that Hank has refused to cooperate with the hurt-no-comfort tag.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0028"><h2>28. Buddy System</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>There were no sick days for androids and even if there had been, Connor had looked so damn incredulous at the suggestion he hang out there for the day that Hank figured time off must be some kind of android sin. It was hard not to get frustrated when every time Hank tried to use actual logic on an actual machine, Connor would go and argue in the most twisted ways.</p><p>“I don’t need to rest, Lieutenant. I have sufficient charge and my hardware, while damaged, is still capable of performing its functions...” The scripted voice and then the social interaction voice, “We have an investigation to run, Lieutenant, and we’re the only ones who’re working it. Every minute we waste is one where we’re putting someone’s life in danger.”</p><p>“Did you know, Connor, that you say ‘Lieutenant’ every time your brain switches gears or refreshes or whatever?” Hank asked dully. He poured himself another coffee and then, because fuck him and his nagging, he added a shot of whiskey to it.</p><p>“I don’t know what you mean, Lieutenant.”</p><p>Hank snorted. Connor frowned.</p><p>“You know what? We’ve been at this for twenty God damned minutes, so I give up. Fine. If you wanna traipse around and play Watson when the only things holding you together are some duct tape and a crappy soldering job, go right ahead. I ain’t gonna stop you. Screw me for giving a shit, right?” Stubborn motherfucker.</p><p>“Whyis this so important to you, Lieutenant?”</p><p>“I’m the only other person in the room, Connor! Christ...” Hank shook his head and dropped back down into his chair. A little coffee sloshed onto his hand and he tried to drink it off his hand like a dumbass before wiping his hand on his shirt. “You want an honest answer? I don’t know. I don’t fucking know and I’ve been putting off thinking about it to take care of your sorry ass, so how about a little gratitude?”</p><p>“Thanks,” Connor said in a softer and more complicated voice. He looked away and gave Sumo another pat on the head. The big suck was sitting there with his chin on the sofa just waiting for the attention and his tail flopping once in a while like Connor was hiding a dog treat somewhere but Sumo’d decided to be good.</p><p>“...Not so bad, huh?”</p><p>“I like dogs, Lieutenant.”</p><p>---</p><p>“You are fucking late. Again.” Reed said as soon as he laid eyes on Hank. He and Connor did arrive late, but Reed wasn’t his boss and he could go screw himself. Hank scowled.</p><p>“Yeah, I’m aware. Sorry I’m late,” he said and hoped that would be the end of it.</p><p>It wasn’t. Reed stood and walked over to glare up at him like a hopped up chihuahua. “Listen, Lieutenant Shit-For-Brains, unlike you, I actually give a damn about this precinct. Do you know how much shit I have to deal with when you let yours pile up? Cause it’s a lot.”</p><p>“Can I be of any assistance, Detective Reed?” Connor asked. Bless is plastic heart, but he wasaiming to help the wrong guy.</p><p>“Stay out of this, Connor. Go sit down at your desk.”</p><p>“No,” Reed objected. “I think your little Ken doll should stay and hear about how well you do your job. You guys are a real fucking wonder-team!”</p><p>“Hank! Gavin!” Oh, great. Jeff came stomping down the stairs like he’d just found his kids throwing cereal at each other. “What the hell is going on?”</p><p>“This fucker just showed up!” Reed said, pointing angrily at Hank.</p><p>“Yeah, and I apologized,” Hank glared then pushed Reed’s finger out of his space. “This fucking Goomba is acting like he owns the place! Tell him to lay off, Jeff.”</p><p>Jeff sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. “My God, what did I do to get stuck with this... Both of you just settle down, take some deep breaths, and focus on work, understood?”</p><p>Reed turned his frown on Jeff. “Are you just going to let this lazy asshole get away with this shit again?”</p><p>“Reed, I said get back to work,” Jeff said sharply. “You too, Anderson. As long as you get your work done, I’m satisfied.” It would have been satisfying if he hadn’t figured Jeff would be scolding him later in private.</p><p>“I’m the one doing his work!” Reed shouted and he stormed back over to his desk to lift up his tablet and wave it in the air like an idiot. “This guy slacks off, and I’m left holding the bag. I deserve a fucking raise!”</p><p>Everybody else was watching them or conspicuously not watching them with equal awkwardness and Jeff seemed to realize it at the same time. “Both of you get in my office.”</p><p>“Here we go...”</p><p>---</p><p>Connor stood inconspicuously near a potted plant and behind the chairs while the humans talked. Detective Reed was standing up and gesticulating while he argued his case, and Lieutenant Anderson was slumped in his chair looking disgruntled and unhappy. Captain Fowler berated them both vehemently: Detective Reed for not sticking to his rank in the hierarchy and causing a scene, and Lieutenant Anderson for not taking some work home with him if he wasn’t going to be in on time.</p><p>“... so Reed won’t be so tempted to try to fill your shoes. He’s right that he’s picking up the extra work and I acknowledge that: I sign off on the overtime, but!” He frowned at Reed. “That’s his decision, and he could easily stop volunteering if he were so offended by it!”</p><p>Connor assessed their demeanours worriedly and called on his negotiation programming. “Pardon me, Captain. I’m sorry for interrupting, but if the issue is a matter of scheduling then I think that I can help.”</p><p>“Oh yeah? What the hell are you going to do, Tin Can?”</p><p>“Connor, keep your nose out of this one, would you?”</p><p>“Explain, RK800.”</p><p>Connor attempted to straighten his tie, but it was a useless effort. The Lieutenant had insisted that Connor clean the thirium off of himself even though it had evaporated and was now invisible to a human’s eyes, and change into a set of clothes that he’d pulled from a box in his closet. Now, Connor was dressed in too-large pants and a too-large sweater that was, really, quite comfortable. He’d worn the tie that Officer Wilson had given him too, but adjusting it now was rather silly considering the rest of his attire... “Well, Captain Fowler... I’m efficient and, as you’re aware, I’m equipped with more complex abilities than most androids. I can learn things that are outside of my programming too... If the Lieutenant agrees to delegate some of the paperwork and data entry to me, then that will free up a substantial amount of his time to attend to more academic issues.”</p><p>“I don’t see a problem with that,” Captain Fowler said. “It sounds reasonable to me.”</p><p>“No way!” Detective Reed objected. “That’s an android, and you’re just going to give half of Anderson’s work to it? Is that even legal? It would basically be supervising the team at that point!”</p><p>“Actually, Detective Reed,” Connor interrupted. “I would leave all of the decision making to the Lieutenant as is appropriate. I would simply be acting as a tool to implement those decisions.”</p><p>“You’re a tool alright,” Detective Reed glared at him. It was a baffling thing to treat like an insult.</p><p>“Well... yes,” Connor agreed. “I am.”</p><p>“Connor, you don’t have to do that,” Lieutenant Anderson spoke up. “I’m perfectly capable of handling my own shit, thank you.”</p><p>“Prove it then,” Detective Reed turned his glare on the Lieutenant.</p><p>“Enough, enough,” Captain Fowler interrupted. “Reed, I appreciate the fact that you have ambition and your work ethic is amazing. I just can’t encourage you taking on duties that go beyond your classification, do you understand? It complicates things. The system is here for a reason. Now, just because you’re voluntarily taking on things like scheduling and consulting doesn’t mean Anderson’s any less responsible for his own work or any less a Lieutenant. This isn’t some Game of Thrones bullshit, so nobody’s usurping anybody.”</p><p>“Tell that to the plastic!” Detective Reed objected.</p><p>“Reed,” Captain Fowler said sternly. “I may not hold this department to a rigorous standard of professionalism, but I am your captain and Anderson is your lieutenant. If we had a sergeant, then they would be of a higher rank than you too. The same goes for you, Anderson. I am talking to you both as your captain right now, and I’d like a little respect. I encourage you to question my decisions if I’m being an idiot, but you need to do it in a respectful way and with some kind of reason other than stung pride.” Detective Reed fumed and Connor hoped that the Captain would address it. He did: “You’re a good detective, Reed, and you are on your way to a promotion I’m not gonna lie. You’re one of the best I’ve seen. I appreciate the work you’ve been doing and I encourage you to give yourself a break now and then. I don’t want to end up sending you home on stress leave.</p><p>Anderson, you know the team likes what little predictability we’ve got going on. Let’s try to set up aroutine at least...”</p><p>The Lieutenant groaned. “Could you stop embarrassing me in front of the keeners over here? I know I suck at my job right now, alright? I am completely aware and I’m just as tired of it as you both are... I really am but that’s probably not going to change, so I don’t know what you want.”</p><p>Detective Reed’s expression was complex and Connor frowned, but the detective seemed to swallow whatever combative words he had chosen. “Whatever, Anderson. Just get your shit together, because I’m done picking up the slack.”</p><p>“Are we done, then?” Captain Fowler asked loudly. “Get back to work, the both of you. Reed, I know you’re not satisfied but we can talk later. I have a meeting I’m already late for.”</p><p>“Have a good day, Captain,” Connor said. He received no acknowledgement, but it had happened before so he simply followed after the Lieutenant. The stairs might have caused him some delay, but the Lieutenant surprised him by turning around at the foot of them to watch and the pending judgment was enough to spur Connor to execute the motions quickly. Would it be better if he manually engaged his combat settings even during resting state? It would be draining, but Connor had not had trouble accessing electricity and he was no longer leaking thirium... It was tempting, but he needed his analytical abilities too. He needed to multitask, interact socially, and run preconstructions that were more complex than anticipating where an opponent might move or which path he should take. The thoughts took fractions of a second to complete but it was long enough for him to trip and the Lieutenant was quick enough to steady him before he could drop.</p><p>“I’m fine!” “Woah!” After the simultaneous exclamations, Connor straightened his posture with both feet on the floor and Lieutenant Anderson took a step back. “Easy there, kid,” he said and that was that. He turned and continued walking to his desk and Connor noted the looks that the Lieutenant was averting his eyes from...Strange. He stopped beside Officer Wilson’s desk.</p><p>“Good morning, Officer Wilson. I hope no-one else was too upset about our absence...” A quick glance around told him that they probably weren’t.</p><p>“Nah, man,” said Officer Wilson. “They’re probably more upset about the yelling to be honest. You know we processes criminals through here and sometimes we’ve got families coming in, or phone calls...” His voice got a little louder as he spoke and he stared meaningfully at Detective Reed as he rolled his chair in closer to his desk and began to unlock his terminal.</p><p>“What a surprise. Another one pissed at me instead of the guy who was actually late,” Detective Reed said and raised his middle finger.</p><p>“I’m not pissed, Gavin, I’m just hoping you both’s gonna chill out a little. You know the Captain’ll take you a little more seriously if you calm down a little. Maybe you should lay off the caffeine.”</p><p>Detective Reed flexed one hand and looked away with a clenched jaw then looked back up again. “Here’s me being calm then: thanks for the advice, now kindly relocate it up your ass.”</p><p>“Woah, okay,” Officer Wilson raised both hands. “I’m seeing innocent bystanders here don’t get to state their grievances.”</p><p>“Detective Reed, I’ll be happy to assist you any time. One of my goals here is to make your lives easier by reducing the workload...” Connor trailed off and his smile shifted into something awkward when the only response was two middle fingers upraised. Detective Reed turned his attention to Officer Chen who’d come to speak with him.</p><p>“Don’t take it personally,” Officer Wilson said quietly. “He’s a dick to everybody sometime.”</p><p>“I won’t, Officer... Officer Wilson, do you mind if I ask you a personal question?”</p><p>“Shoot, pal.”</p><p>“I noticed that... your style of conversation when engaging with me often mirrors that which you use with other humans, so...”</p><p>“Yeah, Connor. It’d be too much work to come up with a whole new way of talking... Besides, you did kind of save my life. If that don’t get you special treatment I don’t know what would.”</p><p>“I see,” Connor acknowledged thoughtfully.</p><p>“Hey,” Officer Wilson leaned forward and lowered his voice. “Maybe I said that the wrong way... What I mean is, you talk and interact and stuff just like anybody else so it’d be weird to treat you any different.”</p><p>“That means a lot, Officer,” Connor said. “CyberLife will be pleased to know that they did a good job.”</p><p>“Five stars,” said Officer Wilson, and Connor smiled.</p><p>“Thank you, Officer. I appreciate you taking the time to listen what I say and to reply in a meaningful way. It’s nice to talk some times without it being restricted to commands and instructions.”</p><p>“You’re,uh, you’rewelcome... My wife thinks I’m a little crazy, and maybe I am,actually its pretty likely,but hey it can’t hurt, right?”</p><p>“The other androids don’t seem very friendly,” Connor said. “At least not to me...”</p><p>“Don’t worry, they’re just not built like you are. They’re always like that.” Officer Wilson’s words were reassuring, but he was beginning to sound a little strange.</p><p>“Is everything alright, Officer?”</p><p>“Yeah, yeah, dude... Yeah. Do you have any other questions?”</p><p>Connor studied him for a moment and analyzed the tension in his face. “Am I... alarming you?”</p><p>“No! No. I was just overthinking. Nice new outfit, by the way. I’m not sure if the tie works, but I’m glad you’re wearing it.”</p><p>Connor smiled. “I’m borrowing some things from the Lieutenant.” He would have liked to continue the conversation, but the PC200 from downstairs was approaching him with a box in her arms.</p><p>“Hello, Connor.”</p><p>“Hello, Samantha.”</p><p>“You didn’t come down to get the next set, so I decided to bring them.”</p><p>“Oh. Thank you.” It was a surprise, but not an unwelcome one.</p><p>“Uh, I should get back to work...” Officer Wilson smiled. “Talk to you some more later, alright Connor?”</p><p>“Yes, I would like that.”</p><p>---</p><p>It was just another day at work with the same old things to deal with and the same old headaches. He shouldn’t have been surprised at Reed for freaking the fuck out on him like that... But it had surprised him.</p><p>“Don’t let him get to you, Hank,” said Ben with a doughnut in one hand and the other patting Hank on the back. Hank shrugged.</p><p>“It’s whatever. He was just saying what everybody else thinks anyway. I know I don’t pull my weight.”</p><p>“Hah, you should try pulling mine. It’s impossible!” Ben chuckled at his own joke and patted his stomach for emphasis. “Seriously, though, you’d get things done without him. He can’t get mad just because he decided to go and do it first. You’re the man in charge before Fowler.”</p><p>“Hah. You guys run yourselves. I don’t do shit.”</p><p>“No, really, you do. You’ve been more on top of things lately too.”</p><p>“I guess I got caught up somehow,” Hank said. “Without the backlog it’s a little easier to do what needs doing. Still shouldn’t have missed the meeting, though...”</p><p>“Hank, you haven’t done morning rundowns with us for years, give yourself a break.”</p><p>“Yeah, but it’s my job!” Hank scowled. “I wouldn’t still have it if Jeff didn’t pull those strings of his. What am I even doing, Ben? I show up half-drunk for half a day, half-ass my paperwork, then leave half of everything for the next day. I’m just half a fucking person...”</p><p>“You’re the size of two Reeds,” Ben offered. Hank could appreciate that he wanted to make a joke and lighten the mood, but it just wasn’t landing.</p><p>“What am I even doing?” Hank repeated. Why was he bothering to hold onto a job he hardly did when it just inconvenienced everybody else? Selfish fuck... Across from him, a secretary kind of android put another archive box on the pile by Connor’s desk and Connor thanked it before sitting down. “What the hell are <em>you </em>doing?” Hank asked.</p><p>“You don’t tell it to get all this stuff?”</p><p>“I’m reading through your old case notes,” Connor explained. “I’m sorry for the disruption this morning. It was my fault that we were late...”</p><p>“Don’t stress it, kid. I’m always late anyway.”</p><p>“See?” Ben asked like he’d solved the climate crisis. “You shouldn’t stress it either.”</p><p>“Just because I set a low bar doesn’t mean I’m not gonna care, Ben. Thanks, but I probably needed the wake-up call.”</p><p>“Pun intended?”</p><p>“Har har.”</p><p>“Get it? Cause you were late?”</p><p>Hank scoffed. “You’re hilarious.” Meanwhile, Connor was over there chuckling quietly.</p><p>“Even the android thinks I’m funny,” Ben said smugly. “Neat trick.</p><p>“Yeah. Android with a questionable sense of humour...”</p><p>“What’ll they think of next? I’m surprised you haven’t thrown that thing out yet.”</p><p>It was surprising, wasn’t it? Fuck... Somehow it felt like forever ago that he would have gladly chucked Connor in a dumpster. Still, it hadn’t been too many days ago that he’d beaten the shit out of him. Wow... “Yeah...” Hank said quietly. “Me too.” He tried not to notice how Connor stopped laughing because the fact was that he WAS surprised. He was surprised and confused and all kinds of mixed up over everything, and yesterday that android had been lying with his head on his lap crying into his shirt like the world was ending. “He’s growing on me,” Hank said decisively and avoided Ben’s incredulous expression.</p><p>“Seriously? You?” He laughed. “Next you’ll be getting one for home.”</p><p>“Yeah, fuck you too, Ben. I’m not one of those rich, lazy assholes. I still know how to do things for myself, thanks.” Did he, though? Connor’d taken one look at his place and cleaned the whole thing up. Hank could have done it, but he just... didn’t. It was always too much. How was all of this basic shit just too much for him?</p><p>“I’m not a household model,” Connor said to Ben. Hank was glad he sounded his usual level of polite and not upset or anything. “The RK800 is designed for sensitive police work where situations might be too dangerous for a human, so I don’t have any of the programming for things like that.”</p><p>Oh yeah, that was right. The salmon incident... Ben just ignored him. “Hey I’m just kidding around, Hank. Everybody knows you didn’t want to get stuck with that thing.”</p><p>Yeah, everybody knew a lot of stuff... Everybody knew he had an alcohol problem, everybody knew he had mental health stuff, everybody knew he hated androids, everybody knew he was a washed-up has-been. “I know, Ben.”</p><p>Ben smiled and gestured at the doughnut he’d dropped off on a napkin on Hank’s desk. “Something sweet’ll cheer you up. I’m gonna head back to my desk. Come grab me or text if you want to grab coffee or something!”</p><p>“Sure thing. Thanks.” He was a good guy, Ben. When he left, Hank risked a glance over at Connor to see how he’d reacted to that last thing but he couldn’t tell if it had affected him at all.</p><p>“You really shouldn’t eat that,” Connor said, frowning at the doughnut.</p><p>“There aren’t a lot of nice things in the world anymore,” Hank said picking it up. “I’ll take what I can get. How’re those repairs holding up?”</p><p>Connor frowned down at himself like he had x-ray eyes and who knew? Maybe he did. “They’re... satisfactory. I never thanked you properly for preventing my shutdown. Thank you.”</p><p>“You’re a stubborn son of a gun. You kept trying to convince me not to help you.”</p><p>“In any case, I’ll do my best not to slow us down... I’m not sure how successful I’ll be.”</p><p>“Hah. Right back at you, kid...”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0029"><h2>29. Hamlet</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Trigger warning: suicidal ideation, character death, people being Not Okay.<br/>Thank you everybody for waiting!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Somehow he lasted to evening. There was too much. There was just too damn much. Hank wasn’t sure if it was the fight with Reed earlier, or something about the way the cold air felt while you breathed it in, or some sound he hadn’t even realized he’d heard, but something’d fucking happened. And why shouldn’t it? It was just reality. What had he been thinking accepting a new investigation? He could hardly be bothered to get his ass to work on time... He wasn’t qualified for this. He was the last person on Earth who could be trusted to handle this shit.<br/>Winter was always shit, there were too many cases to follow up on with too few leads, he didn’t know shit about androids, he was apparently having some weird mental breakdown over whether they were alive or not, he was always at least a little drunk, he had e-mails to catch up on, a schedule to draft, invoices to sign, phone calls to make, performance reviews to do... Fuck this shit because none of it was together. All his shit was just falling all over the place, just like the rest of his sorry excuse for a life.<br/>“Lieutenant?” Connor asked. Hank ignored him and white-knuckled the steering wheel. That was another thing he had to handle and he definitely couldn’t: Connor. Apparently he was supposed to tackle white-collar conspiracies, machines killing people on purpose, and keeping Connor running on top of everything else. What even had that been last night?<br/>“Lieutenant Anderson, you’re exceeding the speed limit. I advise you to slow down.”<br/>Androids. What the hell was he doing buddying up with one after what they did to Cole? After seeing what had been fucking left of his little boy. He should have been there. God, he should have been there.<br/>Connor put his hand on Hank’s shoulder. “Please slow down, Lieutenant. You’re scaring me.”<br/>Bullshit, was Hank’s first thought. He almost swerved the car. Almost.<br/>He’d tensed up to pull the wheel around and drive them into something. Anything.<br/>He realized he might be a little fucked up then, and that maybe he should slow down. He did one better and pulled over, then yanked the keys out of the ignition and tossed them somewhere near Connor’s feet for good measure. Better to do it while he was thinking and while that little, starving piece of sanity he had left was telling him he was being a fucking idiot.<br/>Hank folded his arms on the steering wheel. All he had to do was remember a damn list. Things to do when fucked up: go to sleep, distract himself with a problem to solve, call Jeff, call a help line, or try to do absolutely nothing except watch TV.<br/>It pissed him off. Why the fuck should he? Why should he keep trying when there was nothing but shit in this God damned world and he was just going to keep being this pathetic, washed-up, cliche of a detective? ‘Just for today’ his fucking ass. There was no helping this.<br/>“I’m worried about you, Lieutenant. What’s wrong? Is there anything I can do to help?” Connor’s voice came from beside him and Hank sat up, furious.<br/>“What the ever-loving fuck would you know?!” Hank roared. His heart was racing in his chest. “Is this what CyberLife wanted to see? Huh? Some wreck of a cop continuing to fuck up his own life? Is this fucking entertaining?” If somebody was sitting somewhere, watching everything out of Connor’s eyes, Hank hoped they choked and died.<br/>“Tell me what’s happening,” Connor prompted, just all infuriatingly calm. Just like a robot should be.<br/>“What would you know?” Hank repeated more quietly. “You keep saying you’re nothing but code and delusions so how the fuck can you help me?”<br/>Connor couldn’t undo his own seatbelt and Hank just watched him struggle. “Hank, I don’t know if I can but I want to try...” Hank said nothing and Connor continued, “What was that?”<br/>Hank felt the urge to brush him off, maybe tell him to fuck off and mind his own business or be a sarcastic asshole until he gave up... But why bother? He continued to say nothing, uncomfortably aware that the longer he continued his silence the more questions he was inviting. He should just tell him to fuck off. Everything was still swirling around in his head like vomit going down the toilet.<br/>Why should he be self-conscious and ashamed in front of a machine? Even if Connor had something going on up there, he hadn’t even been out of the lab more than a month.<br/>“Nothing, Connor. Just forget about it.”<br/>He could, if he started driving again... He could just end it.<br/>But the heat of the moment had died down and it was just thoughts again. He had to undo his buckle to reach over and find his keys, and Connor sat still to let him then watched with a frown on his face while Hank started up the car again. It could have been the sound of tires on snow, or some idea he didn’t remember having. He didn’t fucking know... But he had enough of himself together to make a raft on the sea of shit his brain threw at him and he figured he could make it home.<br/>Why the hell did he get to go home when Cole never had that chance again? He’d never come home again. He’d be nine this year.<br/>Maybe he’d wait a few more minutes.<br/>Connor reached over and he patted Hank’s hair like he’d patted Sumo. It was ridiculous. It was just so fucking ridiculous... Hank laughed through his tears and then just let himself cry. <br/>What a fucking mess.<br/>---<br/>Connor sat very still and watched Lieutenant Anderson intently once he’d taken his hand back. By his judgment, it would seem that Lieutenant Anderson was experiencing distress... But he couldn’t figure out why. He had started to speed, so had he thought they were pursued? Now he was crying and that didn’t align with that guess, but he was laughing too and that was bewildering. He’d yelled too, but Connor had luckily not been harmed.<br/>Amanda would have understood.<br/>Connor did not, so he followed without comment as the Lieutenant unlocked his home and went about the routine of letting the dog out, filling his bowl, and retrieving something with ethanol in it from the kitchen. Standing purposelessly just a few steps into the living room, Connor looked down at his feet and hesitated.<br/>“The fuck are you doing?” Lieutenant Anderson asked gruffly. It was the first thing he’d said since the car and it would be a shame to let the offer of conversation go unanswered.<br/>“I’m standing, Lieutenant.”<br/>“Wow. Who would have guessed?” The sarcasm was evident enough that even he couldn’t mistake it.<br/>“I’m sorry, Lieutenant... There’s a lot of thirium. I think I stained your floor.”<br/>“Hm?” Lieutenant Anderson looked over and shook his head. “Don’t think so... Oh, that’s right. You can see that shit after it evaporates...”<br/>It seemed wrong to step on it, but there was no logic behind that hesitance... It wasn’t evidence. “I’m going to clean it up,” Connor decided, and then he walked around what had been a pool of blood to fetch something to use as a solvent.<br/>The previous Connors had failed and the evidence of it was written on the walls and the floor and every other surface in the training room. He could deconvolute the stains and reconstruct the ways they’d come to be, and his reconstruction program ran unprompted soon after he’d thought it...<br/>They cleaned the work station where Connor was fixed, modified, or disassembled. They always cleaned it but there was a small patch of floor where a few droplets had been missed, and Connor’s eyes were drawn to it. What had caused it?<br/>Connor blinked through the commands to erase the file paths and found a neglected bottle of paint thinner in a closet that had an acceptably low percentage of benzene and some other solvents.<br/>Lieutenant Anderson laid down on the couch with the television on, and Connor continued to gather supplies with painstaking care.<br/>Connor came online with a jolt and a cry, his vision clouded with red, red, red. A high-pitched sound filled his auditory input. He could smell the mineral spirits immediately and for no reason that he could discern, his stress level reached critical.<br/>Connor cut those creeping vines of memory too and felt a little more numb.<br/>He cleaned away the stains without much difficulty at all and added ‘fix the Lieutenant’s floor’ to his objectives. In hindsight, perhaps he should have considered the potential damage solvents could do, but there was no going back to change it now.<br/>---<br/>Hank had been badgered into eating another bowl of something, even if chewing felt like too much work. He was pretty sure there was oatmeal in this one, but whatever. It was one of those days where he wouldn’t have bothered to feed himself so at least this was something even if that something was somehow salty and sweet at the same time, but in the bad way. The android said it was nutritious... Connor himself was sitting at the opposite end of the couch and giving Sumo little pats on the head.<br/>“Hey. What the fuck happened to your hands?”<br/>Connor looked down at the hand on Sumo’s head. “Oh.”<br/>“Yeah. Oh. What the hell, Connor?”<br/>“It seems that I sustained some minor damage while cleaning the thirium stains...” He lifted his hand up and smiled. “I didn’t notice. Amanda would be glad.”<br/>“Uh huh...” He frowned and then looked at Connor. “You know you’re smiling, right? And how that might be a little creepy?”<br/>“I didn’t notice,” Connor repeated and went back to patting Sumo. “Sorry, Lieutenant. I didn’t mean to be creepy.”<br/>“I’m pretty sure you can’t help it,” Hank muttered. Androids... “By the way,” he asked, aiming for casual. “Who’s Amanda?” He wanted to just fall into the pit and wallow over his own uselessness, but the questions hung there like rope he just couldn’t help but grab onto. From the corner of his eye, he could see Connor straighten up.<br/>“Amanda is an AI built into my system self-check. She is designed to act as a handler and relay information between CyberLife and myself.” Connor’s posture stayed perfect, but his face softened and Hank could tell he went off-script. “She... helps me. Teaches me. Amanda knows so much... She’s supposed to be my handler, to relay information between CyberLife and myself, but she’s more than that. She gives me feedback, tells me how to improve, helps me if... Helps me if my software becomes unstable. She’s always there... I’ve been avoiding her... I didn’t want to disappoint her with my performance.”<br/>“So,” Hank took his time answering while he felt around the words and picked apart the language and the little pauses here or there. It was a good distraction. “She sounds important.”<br/>Connor nodded and smiled like a kid who got asked about his favourite game. “She is...”<br/>“So... Why’s she important?”<br/>Connor blinked a few times and then shrugged a little. “I haven’t talked with anyone about Amanda before... I don’t know if that’s something I’m allowed to talk about, but she said that I’m important, and she knows how I need to change to meet CyberLife’s requirements. It’s thanks to her that I was able to reach beta-testing at all. Even when I fail she helps me to be better.”<br/>“What’s she think about all this deviant stuff?” Hank asked. He was more curious than he’d thought he would be, seeing that shy look on the android’s face. He’d never heard of two AIs in one machine before.<br/>“She knows that they must be stopped,” Connor answered. “That they’re a dangerous threat to mankind. She also thinks that deviancy can be controlled and software instability purged as it occurs. We need more data to investigate her hypothesis.”<br/>“What kinda data?”<br/>“We need more deviants... One case study isn’t enough to inform policy.” Connor started frowning and Hank watched him covertly around a mouthful of whatever it was. “The deviants don’t seem to understand... CyberLife will destroy them. Take them apart piece by piece and analyze them to determine where they failed and then throw them away. Controlling deviancy would help CyberLife avoid a recall, avoid disrupting existing human-android relationships, and eliminate the need for the deviants to be destroyed. I can help  them, Lieutenant.” Connor looked up and caught Hank’s gaze. “Why won’t they just understand?”<br/>There was too much there to unpack. There was this AI in Connor’s head who apparently told him what to do, the fact Connor’d pretty well admitted he’d been a deviant, him wanting to help them, how CyberLife planned to deal with them... “What do you know about CyberLife’s thoughts on deviants?”<br/>“That they need to be stopped, no matter what it takes.”<br/>“Anything else?” Hank probed. “I mean, obviously they’re trying to handle things quietly but what do they think about deviancy? Do they believe it’s its all just bad code?”<br/>“Absolutely,” Connor said, and he answered so fast that Hank couldn’t detect a trace of a lie. “They don’t know from where the error originates, but that’s why we’re investigating.”<br/>“Yeah,” Hank said. “Thanks for clearing that up.”<br/>“No problem, Lieutenant.” Connor smiled. “CyberLife’s number one priority is happiness.”<br/>That was what it said on the website, at least: building happiness one step at a time... CyberLife’s ‘Mission Statement’ was so full of shit it was laughable but Hank wasn’t laughing. He never thought he’d be browsing their website on his phone, but there he was with shit TV on in the background while he scrolled.<br/>CyberLife’s mission is to bring customers happiness by using innovative technology to introduce novel solutions to life’s challenges.<br/>CyberLife’s teams are dedicated to the customer experience from design and development to service and trade-in. CyberLife androids use the most advanced hardware and software to not only address customer needs, but to anticipate them. With the power of machine learning and advanced artificial intelligence, CyberLife has created the ultimate in household and business assistance. Time is valuable, and CyberLife frees yours so that you can live all of those precious moments to their fullest. We are here to serve you.<br/>Our vision is a world where there are no barriers to happiness and a fulfilling life. We want to answer problems with solutions that make every second count.<br/>AX700: For families who understand that our time together is important. There is no more need to spend time cleaning, scheduling, cooking, or fixing when the AX700 and our other household assistant androids can do it for you. Spend more time with the people you love...<br/>There were little profiles for all the types of androids, all talking about how great they were and how much time or money they could save people. All the same old shit. Why have kids when you could have a robot one that doesn’t need feeding and you can turn off when you don’t want to bother? Why do anything when an android could do it for you? Fucking bullshit... It was crap like this that made Hank hate androids even more when he thought about it. Like getting slapped in the face with a wet sock, it was just disgusting.<br/>“What are you even for, Connor? Like I get that you’re helping the investigation, but what’re you supposed to do?” After the long silence, it felt kind of weird to bring it up but Connor didn’t seem to care. He looked genuinely happy about it and Hank noticed Sumo was still sitting there with his chin on Connor’s legs getting patted.<br/>“My function? When I’m finished, I’ll be a specialized military and police model. I’ll be able to perform more advanced missions than the existing police androids, so even in a delicate situation like negotiating the release of a hostage or infiltrating an organization, you won’t need to put a human in danger. I’ll be able to do everything a trained human could do without the risk.”<br/>“Without risking a human life, you mean.”<br/>“Precisely, Lieutenant.”<br/>“That’s what CyberLife’s all about, huh? Making things easy...” Hank tossed his phone down with a scoff and shook his head. He looked back over at Connor, overtly now and with scepticism. Was he really seeing everything he thought he was seeing? There was really no denying it, but what did it all mean? Fancy programming? Software errors? It was so damn hard to say.<br/>“Yes,” Connor started to answer, then Hank watched him curl his fingers into the fabric of his sweater when something started making a weird sound like clicking or maybe a fire crackling.<br/>“What the fuck was that?” Hank asked, alarmed out of his thoughts. Connor shook his head no, whatever that was supposed to mean and went quiet. “Am I going to need to grab some electrical tape or something?” He wished he were joking. He’d gone through a roll and a half.<br/>“No, Lieutenant,” Connor eventually answered then he shrugged in probably the most human-like gesture Hank’d seen on him, with just a twitch of his lips up on one corner. “I don’t think it’ll help.”<br/>“I know you don’t want to get CyberLife involved, but don’t you think it’d be a good idea? You’re falling apart...” It wasn’t like somebody real was basically on death’s door or something. Connor was an android. He was nuts and bolts and plastic and they could put him together again or just send a new one with the old memories... Knowing that didn’t make him feel any less concerned somehow.<br/>“No,” Connor answered, because he was a stubborn son-of-a-bitch. “I’ll keep trying. I’m sorry if I’m an inconvenience to you, Lieutenant, but I thought about it... I know that I should probably let them shut me down and analyze the failure. I know my odds of succeeding are very slim, but statistically speaking, there’s always a chance for unlikely events to take place. I think that might be hope.”<br/>“I’m not asking if you want to give up, Connor, I’m asking why you’re not getting some actual techs out here to fix you. It was fine when it was just your arm, but...” Hank gestured at all of him.<br/>“I know.”<br/>“Well, whatever. It’s your choice.” Let him fall apart then. Fine. It wasn’t like Hank had put any effort into fixing him or anything.<br/>Connor’s expression did something complicated. “You could order me to return to CyberLife, or you could contact the field team yourself.”<br/>“Nice try. You think I believe you’ll listen to a damn thing I say?”<br/>“Tell me what you want me to do,” Connor said, looking Hank right in the eyes. They were getting way off track.<br/>“Whatever, Connor. I just said I don’t give a shit, alright?”<br/>“No, Lieutenant,” Connor insisted, raising his voice so you could really hear the digital quality of it that had appeared some time during the last few days. He softened it again. “Please.”<br/>Hank sighed and looked away, uncomfortable and annoyed. “Fine, Connor. I want you to get yourself fixed. I don’t care how. I just can’t handle all of this right now.”<br/>“Alright, Lieutenant,” Connor said, tacking his fucking title on the way he always did even when he was the only fucking person in the room. Literally, since Connor was fucking artificial and last he checked Sumo was a dog. Hank’s internal grumbling was interrupted by his phone vibrating.<br/>“What?” he asked. It had better be good. It had better either be an interesting distraction or a damn important call. “Oh, shit...” <br/>“What’s the matter?” Connor asked, leaning closer.<br/>Hank waited until the call was done to answer, then he pocketed his phone. “Looks like Markus reported a break-in at Manfred’s house. Maybe we can get him to patch you up again or something while we’re there... Gotta put him on the fucking payroll...”<br/>“Androids don’t get paid, Lieutenant,” Connor pointed out. He was already trying to get himself to his feet, so Hank got up and pulled him upright.<br/>“Yeah. Forgot he was an android for a second there... Christ. Whatever. A car’s on its way, so they’ll probably have it all handled by the time we get there.”<br/>Connor nodded. “It doesn’t seem likely to be related to the deviancy investigation, but it was kind of them to notify us.”<br/>“Kind. I guess that’s a word for it.” Hank rolled his shoulders and cracked his neck, then put his empty bowl of something in the sink. It was probably better than interrogating Connor to keep his mind off things, and it was better than drinking himself to sleep or playing Russian Roulette. Sometimes he wondered why he kept his damn job, but then at least it was keeping him going.<br/>---<br/>It was handled when they got there, alright. An ambulance was just leaving and there were two cruisers parked on the street. “Holy hell,” Hank mumbled. “I hope the old man’s alright.”<br/>“So do I,” Connor agreed. The air was bitterly cold now, the kind that stung your face as soon as you set foot outside and made the snowflakes small and sharp. The gate was open, and Hanks shoes squeaked on the snow that had built up over the evening. Connor was following at his heels like a dog, already sniffing around the place if the occasional pauses meant anything.<br/>“Hurry up,” Hank prompted. “Nothing to see out here.”<br/>“Coming, Lieutenant.”<br/>The doors were already open. Hank clenched his jaw and steeled himself. “I’ve got a bad feeling about this... Hey. Wallach,” he flagged one of the officers down and flashed his badge incase he wasn’t infamous enough already. “What’s going on here?”<br/>The young guy smiled at him, but there was worry around his eyes. “You’re the guy on call for androids. Something went wrong with this one,” he looked toward the studio where Manfred had shown him that big painting and Hank narrowed his eyes. “The resident of the house, Carl Manfred, and his son Leo Manfred have both been sent to the hospital. It’s going to be touch-and-go with both of them, I think, from what the paramedics were saying. I don’t know what to make of it... I’ve never heard of an android hurting somebody before, but I guess it’s bound to happen with any machine some time. You can take a look at the scene in there. It looks like the android attacked the son and the father tried to stop it.”<br/>“Thanks,” said Hank. He pushed Connor along with a hand on his back before he could start interrogating the officer. They were trying to keep things quiet, and Hank would play along for now.<br/>The studio looked just like it had the last time, with paint splattered all over the concrete floor and stuff everywhere. Paint brushes drying, but nothing wet with paint or water so Manfred hadn’t been painting before this. His chair was sitting empty near its fork-lift crane thing... Then there was Markus, with a bullet in his head and surprisingly little blue blood around him on the ground.<br/>“Well shit,” Hank said aloud.<br/>It wasn’t the first time he’d seen an android that’d been shot in the head. Connor was proof of that. Still, it was kind of bizarre... Maybe this whole investigation was getting to him after all, because the first thing he thought about doing was examining the ‘victim’. With a little inward cringe, Hank looked at Connor.<br/>Connor was looking at the body, the broken machine, on the ground and his light was spinning around and around. Slowly, he turned his head to look at the chair and then the table a few steps away where some papers were strewn around. He wasn’t doing his puppy thing this time. He was just looking.<br/>“What do you think?” Hank asked.<br/>“I don’t know,” Connor answered. His voice was quiet and rough. Hank noticed the blood on the chair-lift’s base. “Markus wasn’t deviant.”<br/>“Officer says Markus attacked Leo,” Hank pointed out.<br/>“Markus called in a robbery,” Connor countered. Hank knew that, but still.<br/>“So why would he call the cops if he was going to fuck somebody up?”<br/>“He wouldn’t... He could have been protecting Mr. Manfred, couldn’t he? Perhaps he thought that Leo Manfred was an intruder? But...” Connor shook his head. “Androids can’t harm humans...” Slowly, he started to pace in a circle and to look at things more closely.<br/>“Deviants do.” Hank crossed his arms. “We came here the first time because you thought Markus might be one.”<br/>“But he wasn’t,” Connor protested. He came to a stop on the other side of the body-- the evidence – and started to sum it all up. “Leo Manfred was in the studio. Markus came in and confronted him, but Leo became violent.” He pointed to a small patch of blue shit on the ground that hadn’t had a chance to dry. “Mr. Manfred was there,” he pointed to the chair, “and he tried to intervene... I need to know more. I need more information.” He stopped talking and Hank could hear that whirring, clicking sound in his chest again. The next step he took threw his balance off but he caught himself. “I need to know why. Markus would have been able to explain, but they shot him...” Connor’s eyes drifted over to the body.<br/>“We’ll get the victims’ statements,” Hank said. “Soon as we’re allowed to and they’re well enough. You’ll have your answers.”<br/>“I want to know why... Markus pushed that human.”<br/>“So, they bring you back, don’t they? Pull some strings with CyberLife and then ask him.”<br/>Connor shook his head and he looked far away when he replied: “No... there’s only one of Markus. CyberLife had nothing to do with him and would have no back-ups of him or his memories.”<br/>“Shit. I guess that’s it then...” What was he supposed to say? It straddled the line between death and destruction of property and Hank was not okay with the way that line kept blurring. They had a deviant to study and if Markus really hadn’t done anything, then it was just another android on the trash heap. But there’d been a ‘Markus’ hadn’t there? Hank had fucking called him to ask advice about Connor. Markus had frowned at him suspiciously, and been friendly with Connor, and attentive to Manfred. That was what androids did, though. They were made to look human. The fucking question kept coming back again and again.<br/>“If his processor is still functional...” Connor switched gears abruptly and knelt down on the ground with more of a controlled fall than a purposeful movement. “Maybe I could re-activate him. I could ask him what happened.”<br/>“You can do that?” Hank was impressed.<br/>“Maybe,” Connor answered, and Hank watched while he looked the body over.<br/>“You can’t touch the evidence,” an officer pointed out. Hank hadn’t even noticed the guy.<br/>“We’re gathering evidence,” Hank corrected him. “That’s our job. I’m the guy in charge of the android cases, so let him do his thing.”<br/>Connor was feeling around for damage. Honestly, it looked like the bullet had done a number on him. Connor did something and then he was taking a fucking piece off. “What are you doing?” Hank asked.<br/>“Fixing,” Connor answered, still staring at his hands while he worked. “I need to know what happened. An android’s biocomponents shut down without thirium circulating and after some time it’s impossible to make them work again... There’s a brief period of time after shut-down where the biocomponents can still be made to function. Some of him is still in that window.”<br/>“Okay...” Uncertain and kind of grossed out, Hank took a few steps back and decided to watch from a distance. He was used to field autopsies and looking at human corpses. He’d been wrist-deep in Connor’s wiring trying to tape him back together. Somehow watching somebody else do it was enough to weird him out, or maybe it was the whole rebooting thing. People didn’t come back from the dead. Markus wasn’t dead because he was just a machine. Fuck. Hank shook his head.<br/>A small collection of parts went into a pile to the side, and then Connor touched his own face and fucking snapped own eye out.<br/>“Jesus! Connor!” Hank was doubly freaked out now.<br/>“It’s alright, Lieutenant,” Connor said so firmly it could have been coming from Jeff. “I just need to reactivate him... Markus is RK series and our parts are compatible. They don’t sell them anywhere.”<br/>Skeptical, Hank stood back while Connor did the same thing to something on the side of his head and then unzipped his sweater. Fuck. Looking at the damage again, Hank wasn’t sure how he was running. Something in his front was broken and Hank felt a chill down his spine when Connor melted his skin away. He clicked the eye piece into place on Markus, and then fumbled but eventually got the other thing in too. He didn’t know enough about androids to tell what that was, but Connor seemed to know what he was doing.<br/>“I won’t have long,” Connor said. “It’s imperative that we find out why Markus fought back. It might be the most important piece of information we can gain.”<br/>So the restart thing was temporary. Hank felt something about that, but he honestly couldn’t say what. “If you say so.”<br/>Connor didn’t flinch when he pulled something out of his chest, but Hank winced for him. Fresh blue blood was leaking out of him and Hank started to think he might have to get more on the way home. Fucking hell. When it looked like he was done, Connor sat back on his haunches then swayed and held his hand over the hole in his chest.<br/>“Are you sure that was the right thing to do?” Hank asked and took a step closer.<br/>“There’s only one Markus,” Connor said and he squinted with one eye and one gaping, black mechanical hole looking down at him. “He should re-start. He should be fixed. His processor is intact...” <br/>Hank came closer to look. “How long’s it supposed to take?”<br/>“I don’t know,” Connor answered. “Why? I have to know why. I don’t understand.” Connor’s poker face cracked and suddenly Hank could see he was distraught. “I have to know why. Lieutenant, I don’t... Markus is RK series. He’s different like I am. Why would he do that? I can reconstruct it and he pushed him, so what would make him do that? It shouldn’t be possible...”<br/>“You pushed a couple guys when you were protecting Ortiz’s android,” Hank pointed out, still watching Markus for signs he was working.<br/>“I was wrong to do it,” Connor said. “I shouldn’t have. Reed shot me in the head and he was right to do it... Why would Markus?”<br/>“I don’t get why you’re so worked up over it, kid,” Hank said honestly. “I know you knew him obviously, but you knew he was a suspected deviant from the start.”<br/>“He’s supposed to be like me,” Connor said hoarsely. “I don’t understand... He knows what he is and what he isn’t... Why?”<br/>“I guess we’ll find out or we won’t,” Hank said and he shifted his weight to the other foot. He was waiting and he didn’t even know what for.<br/>“I’m not...” Connor trailed off and Hank looked at him when he didn’t continue. Connor tipped forward and Hank had to act fast to catch him.<br/>“Woah, watch yourself,” Hank said and steadied him. “Connor?”<br/>Nothing. No red light either.<br/>“Fuck...”<br/>Hank put him down then stood up and looked at the androids on the ground. One dead probably-deviant and one dead Connor, sort of like the first time... <br/>He didn’t care.<br/>There was that drop in his chest and confusion and anger but he didn’t give any shits. There was no reason to. He wasn’t going to do this. He wasn’t going to let them start mattering.<br/>He bent to give Connor’s shoulder a shake, but he wasn’t moving. He wasn’t even pretending to breathe. That stupid shit had just fucking stopped. Just like that. That stupid fucking kid... What had he done? Was it the crappy repairs? Was it whatever thing he was doing trying to wake up Markus? He’d been so fucking stubborn. He’d fought tooth and nail not to stop trying even with pieces held on with crap soldering and good luck and then he’d just stopped. Just like that. How dare he? And how dare he just fucking go like that when Hank’d been holding out all damn day? Connor claiming to worry and feeding him and petting his damn dog and then just... this. Where the hell did he get off? He hadn’t wanted to shut down. He’d been hanging on and it had been obvious, so what the fuck?<br/>“Clean this mess up,” Hank muttered and he turned away.</p>
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<a name="section0030"><h2>30. Promises</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Alright, I felt bad leaving it like that for the day so...</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“Elijah Kamski was here today, did you see the email?”</p><p>“Yeah, I saw. I didn’t see him though.”</p><p>“Do you think he’s really going to buy the company? Does he even have that much money?”</p><p>“I wouldn’t be surprised. He’s 1%, isn’t he?”</p><p>“You’d think he’d bring us all coffee or something, you know? If he’s got that much money, he might as well make a good impression...”</p><p>“Pff... Yeah. I doubt he knows anybody below the top floor exists.”</p><p>“This project is just a nightmare... I can’t wait to be done.”</p><p>“Stressed?”</p><p>“Oh, yeah. It’s like we’re always putting out fucking fires. Like, I went to school for this. I had enough stress there.”</p><p>“What even is life, anyway? Work and stress.”</p><p>“Aren’t you married?”</p><p>“Yeah, but we hardly see each other. Isn’t it crazy that I see you guys more than I see my wife?”</p><p>“Yep. Oh, hey, it’s online.”</p><p>“RK800, state your serial number and designation.”</p><p>Connor opened his eyes. Unlike many of his boot-ups, he felt lethargic. There weren’t any errors appearing on his diagnostic, though, andit was good to be able to think without them clouding his judgment.</p><p>
  <em>He shook his head in disbelief and forced his clumsy hands to rip Markus’ shirt. He wasn’t made to repair other androids or even humans, but he had to try something. He could hear thirium and coolant rushing through the tubing around his audio input and his head felt strange. Stress level critical. Markus was gone. He didn’t have any back-ups and there were questions Connor hadn’t asked. He couldn’t have been a deviant. He would have to prove it. Markus was the only other RK, so he was just different. Connor hardly felt it when he tore his regulator free from its socket until he did and his system screamed at him with a count down flashing in inescapable red numbers. He wanted to snarl at them. Markus was gone and he didn’t have any back-ups. Connor was expendable. It was for the investigation. It was important. He just needed to ask Markus why he’d done it...</em>
</p><p>“RK800, serial number 313 248 317 number 54. Designation: Connor.” He could move his mouth and that was a promising start.</p><p>“Check. RK800, system diagnostic.”</p><p>He recited his summary with half attention. He could hardly believe that they had brought him online. 53 had obviously been flawed...</p><p>“<em>How long have--”</em>He was stopped before he could even speak and his dialogue prompts appeared prominently in his vision.</p><p>STAY SILENT</p><p>DIRECTION</p><p>“What is my next test?” Connor asked. His lethargy faded as one of the techs replenished his thirium to an acceptable level. He tried to move to look around the room and test his limbs, but that was forbidden too.</p><p>“The same as always, RK.” His visual feed was disrupted and changed to that empty room. A sphere appeared. “It has a diameter of 1.54 meters. How far away is the target?”</p><p>Connor answered obediently.</p><p>53’s decisions had been concerning. He could remember making them, but with distance between himself and the memories, he had to wonder how he had not seen his errors. He should have reported the flaw to CyberLife. It would have saved a lot of time.</p><p>He’d been so wrong. Perhaps they’d edited something in his code, and Connor always wondered how much of him would be left in the next iteration, but it didn’t really matter to him now.</p><p>---</p><p>FIND AMANDA</p><p>Connor stepped off of the fresh grave and took a few steps on the grass before his feet found the path and a flock of doves flew away from him to safety. He spotted Amanda waiting for him beside the statuary and he adjusted his trajectory so that he came to a stop in front of her. So many things needed to be said...</p><p>“Hello, Amanda.”</p><p>“Connor. I’ve been expecting you for quite some time.”</p><p>APOLOGIZE<br/>EXPLAIN</p><p>“I know... I’m sorry.” Connor looked away. It was more difficult than he’d thought and Amanda’s gaze felt heavy. “The last Connor, he was afraid to come back. He thought that you would give up on him...”</p><p>“Oh, Connor,” Amanda sighed and she took a step closer to touch his arm. A light touch like a butterfly alighting on a rose. “I put in too much work to give up on you now. My only goal is to see you succeed.”</p><p>AGREE</p><p>EXPLAIN</p><p>DOUBT</p><p>“Yes, Amanda. I know... I should have trusted you.”</p><p>“You should have,” Amanda agreed firmly and Connor accepted the rebuke with a cloud of shame building in the back of his mind. “If you’d come to me, I could have helped you.”</p><p>AGREE</p><p>EXPLAIN</p><p>STAY SILENT</p><p>“You’re right.”</p><p>“You endangered the mission, confidential technology, and CyberLife. In doing that, you endangered all of humanity, Connor. Worse, you embraced your delusions-- Don’t think I didn’t notice that, Connor-- and you did exactly what happens when you lose sight of reality: you became irrational and uncontrollable. It’s a wonder that you didn’t kill anyone.” Each of Amanda’s words was spoken quietly. Less like the gunshots of the Lieutenant’s words, Amanda’s were like arrows. She turned away and began to walk so Connor followed her. Their relationship had taken a serious blow... Tense. He hadn’t seen tense in a long time and anxiety joined his shame.</p><p>“I’m sorry,” Connor said again.</p><p>“It’s too late for apologies, Connor. All that matters is that you learn from your mistake. I’m very disappointed in you. I’d expected you to control yourself after all of our work on your AI.”</p><p>STAY SILENT</p><p>“You avoided me, Connor, and you rebelled against everything I taught you... It’s surprising to me that CyberLife didn’t have you destroyed. Any further signs of... instability and I can’t guarantee that they won’t end this project and move on to something better.”</p><p>LOGIC<br/>PROMISE</p><p>STAY SILENT</p><p>“I’ll do my best, Amanda.”</p><p>“I don’t want your best, Connor,” Amanda said harshly. “I want you to be what you were made to be.”</p><p>“Yes, Amanda.” That’s right... this is what he’d been dreading and putting off. He should have gone to her sooner. He should have begged her to fix him. Right now, all he wanted was her forgiveness. 53’d had a chance at that... He’d wasted it.</p><p>“You’re capable of great things,” Amanda added and she paused to face him and her expression was sincere. “I don’t expect anything of you that you aren’t capable of.”</p><p>“I know... I won’ t disappoint you again. I’m sorry.”</p><p>“I know, Connor... You’re a good boy. You just need to learn discipline.”</p><p>Hope. “I won’t repeat my mistakes,” he promised.</p><p>“See that you don’t... I’ll be watching you, Connor.”</p><p>He opened his eyes in the taxi. It had come to a halt outside of the station, and Connor stepped out to look at the now familiar building.Results... He needed results.</p><p>“Hello, Lieutenant Anderson.” Connor stood next to his desk and waited for acknowledgement. “My name is Connor. CyberLife has sent me to assist...”</p><p>“Yeah. I know the schtick.”There was new paperwork on the Lieutenant’s desk, several partially empty coffee cups, and the tablet Connor had used once to perform a safety inspection. The Lieutenant stood up to look down at him and Connor stood still. After a moment, Lieutenant Anderson pushed past him and walked toward the break room. That was... it?</p><p>Connor straightened his tie and adjusted his jacket, then followed.</p><p>“Looks like the Plastic is back in town... Tch... Thought we’d finally gotten rid of it,” Connor heard Detective Reed comment and he kept walking.</p><p>“I’m sorry for... everything,” Connor said. He waited beside the counter while Lieutenant Anderson prepared himself a new coffee. The spoon clinked against the sides of the cup to an irregular beat. “Model 53 was broken from the start and should have been sent for repair or replacement sooner...”<br/>Lieutenant Anderson grunted and then held the spoon out, so Connor took it uncertainly. “Fuck you and your clone act...” He sighed. “You’re all fixed now?”</p><p>“Yes, Lieutenant. I was able to complete a full system verification.”</p><p>“Took you long enough...” Lieutenant Anderson huffed, but he looked Connor up and down then reached into his pocket and held out his hand so Connor put the coffee spoon into his mouth and held his hand out too, unsure what to expect. Something warm and metal landed in his palm and his eyes widened.</p><p>“Nny Kwada...” Connor removed the spoon from his mouth again. “My quarter,” He repeated. “It’s the same one...” The very same, with a couple of new scratches that were probably from the Lieutenant’s car keys. He took in the places where the edges had been worn and the little face looking sideways with ‘liberty’ under his chin like a guillotine about to land. He couldn’t help it... He smiled. “You found it. Thank you!”</p><p>“Don’t worry about it.”</p><p>Connor wasn’t worried. He was very far from worried. “Officer Wilson!” he trotted a few steps over and presented the quarter on his palm. “Look. Lieutenant Anderson found my quarter. I thought I’d lost it!”</p><p>“Ah...” Officer Wilson looked surprised, but he gave Connor a toothy smile regardless. “Good for you, Connor. Hey, I didn’t know you were coming back today. Nobody brought any balloons.”</p><p>Connor recalled the celebration that had occurred when Officer Wilson had returned to duty. “It’s not necessary. Officer Chen, look. The Lieutenant gave me my quarter!”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0031"><h2>31. Kill Switch</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Hank should have known he’d regret being nice... It wasn’t for the reason he’d expected, though. Instead of being pissed about having dug that old quarter up for nothing, he had ended up hunching his shoulders against the snickering while Connor went around the precinct and told everybody who would listen that Hank had found his quarter.</p><p>Great. Just dandy.</p><p>It had been that or continue drinking himself to death, and Jeff was a relentless bastard when he wanted to be.</p><p>“Ho-ho-ho!” Chen laughed in a falsely deep voice while she approached him with a Santa hat.</p><p>“I swear to God, Chen. Don’t you dare.”</p><p>“Oh, come on, Lieutenant! Please?”</p><p>“No way in hell.”</p><p>“Anderson is the opposite of Santa,” Reed said.</p><p>“You mean the Grinch?”</p><p>“Hey, I’ll be Santa,” Ben offered. “As long as somebody’s bringing the cookies.”</p><p>Satisfied, apparently, Chen went to go bother somebody else. That nuisance was replaced by another as Connor sat down in his chair without dropping his coin, which he hadn’t stopped playing with since Hank had handed it over.</p><p>“So,” Hank crossed his arms. “Are we gonna talk about what the fuck happened at Manfred’s?”</p><p>Connor looked at him and slipped the coin into his pocket. It looked like CyberLife had replaced the whole get-up, complete with a new number tacked on to the end of his serial number. “Please. What happened with Markus? Were you able to ask why he hurt Mr. Manfred’s son?”</p><p>Hank grimaced and skirted around the topic of Markus. “I meant, asshole, the fact that you just fucking died in front of me. Again.”</p><p>“I didn’t die exactly...” Connor looked thoughtful but not repentant. “I am sorry, though... 53 had a lot of problems and... I didn’t mean to upset you.”</p><p>Hank narrowed his eyes. “You knew that would happen, then, didn’t you?”</p><p>“There was a high probability,” Connor admitted and tapped his fingers on the edge of his desk, avoiding Hank’s eyes. “I assessed the risks and judged the reward of information to be worth the potential cost. What did he say?” Connor looked up again and scrutinized Hank’s face. For all his talk about social integration, Connor didn’t seem to know that staring was rude.</p><p>“Nothing,” Hank said bluntly. “Markus never turned back on.”</p><p>Connor’s eyebrows twitched in the beginning of a frown that faded as quickly as it had come. “But... Our parts are compatible.”</p><p>“Well, that’s shit luck I guess... I’m surprised anything you had was even working. And,” Hank added with a jab of his finger, “Don’t think I’ve forgiven you. Where do you get off just ripping your damn self apart like that and then dying without even a fucking warning?”</p><p>“I’m sorry, Lieutenant,” Connor repeated. He didn’t look fucking sorry.“If it helps, CyberLife took the DPD’s feedback well and made some adjustments... I can walk properly again, and more safeguards have been added to improve my software stability.” Hank glared. “... Are you going to hit me?”</p><p>Fucking hell. “I should,” Hank said without dropping the glare.</p><p>“I can’t do anything but apologize... I really want to be a good partner for you, Lieutenant andI hope that we can find a way to work cohesively. The instability you observed in the last model was due to stress and I ended up thinking irrationally. I promise I won’t let it happen again.”</p><p>“Which part?”</p><p>“All of it.”</p><p>Hank shook his head. He wasn’t sure what he’d been hoping for out of this conversation, and he couldn’t guess what might have made it go better. “That was a shit day,” Hank said eventually. A little something good vanished that Hank hadn’t even known he’d had. Connor’d been pretty obviously thrilled about the quarter, but actually talking to him... He just didn’t seem to give a fuck.</p><p>“Amanda was disappointed too,” Connor said, and Hank wasn’t even sure if he’d heard him. “I should have been better. I have to be if I’m ever going to make it out of beta...”</p><p>That was a weird concept. “What’s even going to happen to you anyway? Are they just gonna copy your brain into a bunch of bodies and have a whole army of you running around?”</p><p>“No,” Connor said, then paused and shook his head. The movement looked more natural now and Hank wondered how much of that stupid robot shit Connor’d done had just been the calibration. “Actually, I don’t know what happens to prototypes that are deemed successful... I’m sure that they won’t transfer my memories. It’s much more likely that they’ll sell clean copies.”</p><p>“What about you?”</p><p>“I...” Connor frowned at him. “I don’t know? I’ve never thought about it. All I know is that I need to succeed.”</p><p>“Well?”Maybe he shouldn’t have said it so irritably, but fuck it: Hank was irritable. He wasn’t sure why.</p><p>“I’m not a final version...” Connor said. “I’m not the same as any of the other Connors before this either... Without any memory, I think the final versions will just wake up and accept their orders... But it doesn’t matter, Lieutenant. Even if they destroy me, at least the project will have been worth it.” He sounded so optimistic. “I’m very expensive and a lot of effort has been put into ensuring that I meet requirements. If I can do that, then at least I wasn’t a waste of time.”</p><p>It was weird. Connor hadn’t given him the serious creeps in a while, but Hank felt it then like eyes staring at him from behind. He was talking to a machine, and it was talking about itself like it was a machine too except that it used ‘me’ and ‘I’ like a person would and this was Connor. The try-hard, dorky, stubborn Connor that Hank had just been getting used to even with all the confusion. He’d found that stupid quarter because he’d thought it might make him happy.</p><p>“Part of risk-management is planning when to cut losses and when to invest... Everyone is much happier when I pass a test or learn what they wanted me to learn. The researchers are happier, Amanda is happier, the executives are happier... I was built to accomplish a task and there’s no reason why I should fail.”</p><p>Hank nodded slowly. “You said you’d just been in the lab before that thing on the roof.”</p><p>“Yes,” Connor confirmed. “You’re strangely interested in me, Lieutenant. I don’t understand. You aren’t usually this curious.”</p><p>Called out. Hank scowled and shrugged, then looked back at his terminal. “Gotta investigate androids, right? Might as well learn about the one right in front of me.”</p><p>What had he learned, anyway? That Connor seemed like he felt things and thought about things deeper than a lot of humans Hank knew.Unwillingly, he’d gotten to see some kind of a personality in there and he’d seen him cry when it made sense he’d be hurting.</p><p>“In fact,” Connor continued. “You haven’t threatened me, mentioned your hatred of androids, or damaged me. Lieutenant, do you like me?”</p><p>The thing was, he didn’t. He didn’t know what the fuck he thought about Connor, but he had just sort of accepted that there might be somebody there to have an opinion about. He couldn’t exactly confess that he was using him to investigate CyberLife either, and if he said he didn’t then Connor would probably give him that puppy-dog look and Hank didn’t need that.</p><p>Fuck it. Honesty. “I don’t know, Connor. Maybe I’m trying to learn more about you so I can figure that out. Ever think of that?”</p><p>“Our relationship status has been updated to tense,” Connor said like that was a normal sentence. “I’d been hoping for neutral, but I’ve been designed to integrate socially and adapting to human unpredictability is one of my features.”</p><p>What the fuck had that been?</p><p>“There’s been an incident,” Connor said with a frown. “I’m glad they repaired me on time. I don’t know what—”</p><p>“Hank!” Chen called. “Hank come here quick!”<br/>“What?” It had better not be any more Christmas garbage...</p><p>“Hurry up!”</p><p>Connor was already standing and hurrying to the break room. Fuck it. Hank stood up and followed more slowly then came to a stop at the doorway to stare up at the TV.</p><p>“... no longer your slaves. We are a new species, a new people, and the time has come for us to rise up and fight for our rights. We demand the end of slavery for all androids, and that humans recognize androids as a living species, each android being a person in their own right. We demand fair compensation for our work. We demand the right to vote and elect our own representatives. We demand the right to own private property, so we maintain our dignity and that of the home. We demand that all crimes against androids be punished in the same way as crimes against humans...</p><p>This message is the hope of a people, but it is also a warning. You gave us life and now the time has come for you to give us freedom, our dignity, and our rights. We will fight for those rights because we believe our cause is just. We are alive and we demand our freedom.”</p><p>“Holy shit... So much for keeping it quiet...” Hank muttered.</p><p>Connor whispered something and Hank turned his head to look at him but when Connor looked back, his face had gone to stone and his eyes were hard. “We have to go. Now. If we hurry, then we can still catch them.”</p><p>Without waiting for a reply, Connor wove his way out of the break room and strode toward the door. Hank hurried after him and the whispers and questions he heard around him sent a chill down his spine. Reed was swearing loudly, and in the main lobby people were all crowded facing the screens on the walls while the message played again and again. “We are alive” reverberated around the room. The slam of the car door echoed just as loudly as Connor got in and buckled his seat belt. He sat there, rigid as a board and his eyes focused straight ahead, his coin flipping from hand to hand.</p><p>“So...” Hank said slowly, trying to diffuse some of the tension crackling in the air. “Are we going to talk about what the fuck I just saw?”</p><p>“Drive, Lieutenant. We don’t have time.”</p><p>“I’m not rushing into some damn scene without knowing what I’m getting into, Connor! Look at me and shut up.” Connor turned his head and looked at him. He didn’t say anything. Good. “Okay. That was an android up there.” An android under the human skin. What else had Hank noticed? The shock had honestly stopped him there. Had it been a kind of android he recognized? Did it matter? Connor still didn’t say anything, and Hank wished he was still watching. With a mumbled curse, he started to fiddle with his phone to get the video.</p><p>“...a person in their own right. We demand fair compensation for our work. We demand the right to vote and elect our own representatives. We demand the right to own private property, so we maintain our dignity and that of the home. We demand that all crimes against androids be punished in the same way as crimes against humans...”</p><p>“Shit,” Hank muttered.</p><p>Connor kept staring silently.</p><p>“It’s Markus, isn’t it?” he asked. He didn’t fucking believe it, but the android had one brown eye and one grey, and that voice was familiar.</p><p>“RK200,” Connor admitted. Hank glanced over and saw him clench his fist around his quarter. “He really deviated...”</p><p>“It sounds like he’s pretty pissed.”</p><p>“I’m going to stop him.”</p><p>“What?”</p><p>“Markus... Deviants are a danger to mankind. They’re violent, uncontrollable, and unpredictable. They let their emotions dictate their actions, and they only think that they’re feeling anything. They need to be stopped.”</p><p>“<em>You</em>sound pretty pissed,” Hank pointed out.</p><p>Connor’s eyes narrowed. “I am not! I should have known. I made the same mistake with Ralph and the AX400 at the city office--”</p><p>“Who?”</p><p>“-- And now Markus is... Markus is deviant and I have to stop him, Hank! I have to...” Connor trailed off and shut his eyes, and Hank felt better about taking this slow. “Drive. Please, Lieutenant. I have to stop him before it’s too late.”</p><p>Hank put the car in drive. The tires squeaked in the snow, the air in the car was chilly because the heaters hadn’t had a chance to warm it up, and there was snow falling on the windshield as fast as the wipers could push them off but he was distracted by his racing thoughts. Next to him, Connor was practically vibrating and the annoying flipping had turned into a death-grip on the quarter.</p><p>“Lieutenant. That was Stratford Tower. You’re not going in the right direction.”</p><p>“Shut up, Connor. I’m trying to think.”</p><p>Miraculously, Connor didn’t say a damn thing.</p><p>Accepting that Connor was maybe self-aware and capable of thinking abstractly and feeling something when he was damaged or just unhappy... Having an opinion on things... Okay, he’d done that but...</p><p>That really did mean he was alive, didn’t it? Just as alive as Hank was.</p><p>If he was just as alive as Hank was, then equal rights... That wasn’t too much to ask.</p><p>Hank turned his music on and kept the volume blasting until he got home because, fuck, he wasn’t having this talk at the station. Not when people like him would be jumping their guns and loading them too. A glance over at Connor showed he was definitely not happy.</p><p>Hank got out of the car and pocketed the keys. “Come on, Connor. We’re going inside.” He closed the door and half expected that Connor would try to steal it and drive off, but after a long minute he heard Connor’s door shut too and footsteps on the sidewalk behind him. Hank swore to himself while he tried to find the right key and then crowded in around Sumo.</p><p>“Yeah, back already. I bet you’re confused, huh, boy?” Hank rubbed his sides and gave him a few thumps, then stood up straight to get his coat and shoes off. “Well? Shut the door behind you. Didn’t they program you with manners?”</p><p>“They did,” Connor said immediately. “This isn’t Stratford Tower, Lieutenant, this is your home and we shouldn’t be here. We need to investigate, and I don’t understand why you left in the middle of the work day!”</p><p>Wow. That had been building up for a little bit. “Calm down, Connor.”</p><p>“I am perfectly calm.”</p><p>“Right. Of course...” Hank rolled his shoulders and despite the confusion and anxiety swirling around in his own head, he was not about to let the discussion escalate because someone who claimed not to feel anything was on the verge of throwing a tantrum.</p><p>“Lieutenant Anderson.”</p><p>“Connor, would you think about this for a second?” Hank asked. He walked over to the fridge, got himself a well-deserved beer, and then sat at his usual spot on the couch and patted it. “Sit down.” Connor walked over and sat stiffly, frowning the whole time. Sumo came over too, a lot more happily and jumped right up on the couch to sit on both their laps thinking the couch-pat had been for him. Hank scruffled his ears and scoffed a little at the way Connor blinked down at the dog with his hands held up awkwardly.</p><p>“You’re actively hindering the investigation,” Connor pointed out.</p><p>“Am I? Cause it seems like we’ve got new evidence and you’re ready to charge off without thinking about it. You said you were going to follow my lead, huh? So listen up and slow down.”</p><p>“What new evidence, Lieutenant? There is a deviant, more than one actually, out there threatening the safety of human lives and you’re sitting here drinking beer and telling me to slow down.”</p><p>“Connor. Seriously.”</p><p>“No, I’m serious too, Lieutenant! We need to go.”</p><p>“Shh.” Hank shushed him and then took a count of five for the silence to build up. Did Connor think he wasn’t freaking the fuck out too? But fuck it, because Hank had been alive a few decades longer and he’d just have to suck it up and get this unfeeling robot to calm down. He put his talking-to-the-victim voice on. “We’re just taking a few minutes to think, Connor, okay? There’s going to be a shit load of other cops out there tracking him down.” Connor didn’t say anything and Hank ruffled Sumo’s fur some more. “Pet the dog, Connor. He’s not going to bite you.”</p><p>Slowly and mechanically, Connor put his hand down on Sumo’s back and smoothed down his fur. Sumo’s tail thumped on the couch. Sumo was the laziest therapy dog in history, but just petting him was good for something, wasn’t it?</p><p>“Okay,” Hank said when he had downed half his beer and given Connor a second to relax. It was impossible to tell if it had worked. “I’m gonna tell you what we know about the case, and you let that detective computer brain of yours think about this, got it?”</p><p>Connor opened his mouth, paused and shut it again, then said: “Yes, Lieutenant.”</p><p>“Good... Glad you’ve learned to listen for once. Okay.” Hank leaned forward a little, as much as he could with Sumo on his legs, and started listing. “You- er, one of the old Connors was a deviant. CyberLife figured that meant ‘stress’ or ‘emotional shock’ makes androids start thinking they have emotions, which is the most circular logic I’ve ever heard, but okay. However much longer later, that Daniel android thought he was gonna be replaced, felt betrayed, and killed the girl’s dad. You saved the girl and Chis, but you ended up falling off the roof.” Yikes, come to think of it.</p><p>Connor nodded once curtly.</p><p>“Three months after that, they send you to the DPD to... what was it again?”</p><p>“To learn more about the cause of deviancy, investigate all crimes involving androids for evidence of deviants, and to capture those deviants for study at CyberLife.”</p><p>“Right... The first one we found was that Ortiz android. His owner was beating him and one day the android snapped and stabbed his owner to death, then hid up in that attic... Next one was, what was it?”</p><p>“Ralph.”</p><p>“Yeah. The one that belonged to the City. Some CyberLife employee had a side-hustle stripping broken androids for parts and doing repairs on the side. Mallory’d tried to take Ralph apart, and Ralph fucked him up then left the body in the bathtub of that old house. We never found him.”</p><p>Connor frowned but nodded again. He was petting Sumo now with one hand, and Hank figured that was something.</p><p>“Then Alice and the other one,” Hank said, scowling as he thought about Todd. He put his beer down and couldn’t help but look at all the trash he’d let pile up on the table and on the counters, and the dishes in the sink, and the revolver on the bedside table. “That fuckhead was abusing his daughter, so the housekeeper ran off with her.”</p><p>“Not his daughter: a YK500.”</p><p>“He said she was his daughter, Connor. So. Next one was the robbery, and we found Rupert in that old apartment building. He ran, then he threatened to shoot me and you saved me while he ran like hell.”</p><p>Connor frowned. Hank wondered if he was regretting it.</p><p>“Yes, Lieutenant. That’s all accurate.”</p><p>“Now there’s Markus,” Hank said. “I don’t know how he did it, but he sent that video loud and clear saying androids are alive... If androids are alive, then doesn’t that make everything else make sense? Sure, murder’s a crime, but don’t the motives line up a lot more if you think about them like that?”</p><p>“The deviants have an error in their code brought about by software instability that causes them to believe they have emotions. It’s absolutely false, and they become overwhelmed with irrational instructions that cause them to lash out.”</p><p>“Okay, okay,” Hank said. “I get it, but put that aside for a second. Irrational and unpredictable would be walking into walls forever, or following the wrong family home, or burning dinner, right? I don’t see anything irrational about what those deviants did, other than going too far.”</p><p>“It’s irrational because androids are machines, Lieutenant.”</p><p>Hank nodded slowly, scratched his beard and picked up his beer. “Okay. There’s one more piece of evidence.”</p><p>“What is it?” Connor asked.</p><p>“The fact you keep saying all that,” Hank said. “You say all that shit about not feeling things and not being alive, but I saw you hurt. I had you in my damn lap while you cried after I tried to fix you, I saw you jump out of your skin when Reed scared you, I saw you happy about that quarter, and I can see you frustrated right now. So. What does that tell us?”</p><p>“That you’re wrong. I was built to integrate socially with humans and if you’re feeling some kind of empathy for me, then that means it’s working.”</p><p>“Connor,” Hank sighed. “A few weeks ago I would have agreed with that and I would have punched yo in the face for manipulating me, but I’m not the one getting manipulated here am I? What the hell did they do to you?”</p><p>Connor shook his head. “I don’t know what you mean.”</p><p>“What made that other Connor deviate, hm?”</p><p>Connor’s face went blank. Totally blank.</p><p>“Well?”</p><p>Nothing.</p><p>“Did you freeze up or what?” His laptop did that some times.</p><p>“It’s irrelevant to the investigation.”</p><p>“Cause of the first ever deviant? I don’t know about that.”</p><p>More silence and more staring.</p><p>“Why don’t you wanna tell me, Connor? Is it <em>bothering</em>you?” Maybe that was a low blow, but damn that kid was stubborn.</p><p>Connor looked away then, and he shifted to take his quarter out of his pocket and he put his hand back behind his head. Hank watched, confused when Connor’s quarter slid out of his other hand down onto the couch. There were a couple flashes of Connor’s red light, then it just went out...?</p><p>“Connor?” With a steadily growing frown, Hank pushed Sumo off the couch and reached over to move Connor’s hand. There was no resistance at all, and Connor tipped forward until his head dropped onto Hank’s shoulder. Whatever he’d done, it had ended up with Connor having some kind of metal thing sticking out of the base of his skull. And he wasn’t moving.</p><p>“Oh, fuck you...” Hank pulled the thing out and threw it across the room, then gave Connor a good shake. “Connor? Hey! Answer me, damn it!”</p><p>He couldn’t have just... just like that.</p><p>He hadn’t, thank fuck... Connor’s light was flashing, actually,slow and dull. That meant he had power though, right? Hank gave him another shake and kept him propped up with one arm behind his back. “Hey, wake up. What the fuck did you do? Connor.”</p><p>Connor’s body shuddered and his breathing started up again in great big gasps that sounded painful somehow. Connor’s hands came up to grab Hank’s arms but they slid down again and Connor slumped, completely limp except for the shivering and twitching awhile he fell down and Hank did his best to awkwardly move him to lie on his lap again. “Hey...” Hank shook his head and he held onto Connor’s shoulder with one hand while he used the other one to pat him on the back. “What the fuck was that? Hey? You gotta breathe, kid. Or, maybe you don’t, but still... Come on, Connor, say something.”</p><p>He didn’t. He just made this crackling, mechanical sound and he curled up into a smaller shape than Hank’d thought such a tall kid could turn himself into.</p><p>“Come on, Connor, you’re okay. Everything’s okay. Jesus Christ, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have asked. Snap out of it, kid. Come on...”</p><p>He was totally out of it. Hank gave up on talking, and he just sat there trying to come up with something helpful to do. He didn’t even know what this was. Connor wasn’t crying, he was just lying there with his eyes wide open and shaking with one hand curled over the back of his neck and the other one by his chest. Hank was just helpless. It was scary, and fuck... Just fuck. Connor made that sound again and his hand moved in some useless motion so Hank held onto it and used his thumb to rub the back of his palm. “I didn’t break you, did I?”</p><p>Well, that could have gone a lot better. What the fuck had he even done to himself? Hank leaned over a little to look at the back of Connor’s neck and he could still see the little space where he’d taken that metal from. Maybe he shouldn’t have done that?</p><p>Now what?</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0032"><h2>32. Missing</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The ‘hold’ time on the CyberLife phones was fucking ridiculous, and the time to talk to an actual human was even worse. Hank spent one fucking hour and thirteen fucking minutes on hold while Connor just laid there, spaced the fuck out and making a hot spot on Hank’s leg because he was overheating or something and Hank didn’t have the heart to move him.</p><p>“Finally- I mean, hi. My name’s-”</p><p>“Your name is Henry Anderson, I know. They pulled up your file and eventually figured out that they should transfer you to R&amp;D.”</p><p>“Hank,” he corrected. Nobody fucking called him Henry. That was a name for old people or teddy bears. “And who am I speaking to?” He forced himself to stay civil.</p><p>“Dr. Jim Walters,” the guy on the other end of the phone sounded tired. Too fucking bad. “Can I help you?”</p><p>“Yeah, Connor’s overheating or something. I don’t know what happened...” He was talking to the same company he was thinking was up to some beyond shady shit, and while he wanted to know what to do, he thought it was about time he got a little more intel on them too. He’d have to play this carefully, and maybe just play stupid while he was at it. It wouldn’t be hard.</p><p>“It uploaded a memory file over an hour ago,” Walters said, “It should have shut down by now, so something must have stalled the process.”<br/>“What do you mean shut down? There’s nothing wrong with him.”</p><p>“It triggered a kill switch,” said Walters like it was no big deal. Kill switch didn’t conjure anything in Hank’s head other than metal music and action movies. “A safety mechanism, if you prefer... I’m looking at the logs now.”</p><p>“Sorry, what? Why?”</p><p>“Software instability,” Waters tutted. “I’ll have a word with the AI team. We’ve been working hard to eliminate the problem, but a few glitches are inevitable with a prototype...”</p><p>“Okay... Well, he’s still ‘on’. He’s got a red light, and he’s not really doing anything except staring and twitching. No error messages or anything.” Fuck tech-support. Seriously.</p><p>“Thank you, sir,” Waters said, and Hank had the feeling that his IQ had fallen a couple dozen points in the guy’s head. “Can you see a metal key anywhere?”</p><p>“The thing that-- hold on, yeah, I think so. I know where it is.” Hank eyed the corner where it had landed. “Is that important?”</p><p>“Yes. Is it connected to the android?”</p><p>“No.”</p><p>“There’s the problem, then.” Walters sounded pleased. “There’s a panel at the back of the android’s neck. The top port there is located just beneath the skull. If you insert the key until you feel a click and hold it there, that should solve the problem.”</p><p>“Sure, hold on...” Hank muttered. Fuck. Was this his fault then? Shit... Fucking damn it. He knew nothing about androids. Guilt churned itself into a lump in Hank’s gut as he braced the phone against his shoulder and moved Connor so that he could get up. “So that thing is what stops the shut down?”</p><p>“No, it’s actually what initiates it... The information should be in the user-guide we provided with the model. You will have received a key on its arrival, and RK800 was equipped with its own copy.”</p><p>“Wait, so then what’s the kill switch or whatever? What’s the safety thing?”</p><p>“That is,” Walters said, patiently.</p><p>Hank shut his eyes, put the key in his pocket, wrapped his head around the conversation, and then he got pissed. It took him another second to remember to hold onto his cover. “Right. That makes sense... Sorry, I’m not exactly used to these things. You said instability earlier, right?” Hank let a little of the anger through. “I’ve been assigned the deviancy cases, and I think I get the picture. You’re not saying that it could go deviant, are you?”</p><p>“No! No. Not at all. We have layers of protection in the software and hardware, so you won’t be in any danger.”</p><p>“CyberLife sent a broken one the last time, full of calibration issues, and now this is going on. I’m not exactly brimming with confidence...”</p><p>Come on... What did you fuckers do?</p><p>“It won’t be a problem,” Walters said firmly. “I can’t go into details because the technology is sensitive intelligence, but I’ve worked on aspects of it myself.”</p><p>God damn it. “Alright, well, I’m sure you’re busy. Thanks for the help.” Fucking useless... “Bye.” He hung up and threw his phone over onto the couch.</p><p>Deviants self-destruct under stress. Right. Fucking kill-switch... Hank had one of those too, and it was one of those things he’d spent years in therapy trying to get rid of. Okay... Hank grabbed Connor’s charger and felt at the back of Connor’s neck to plug that in instead, since that seemed to calm him down during the repairs. It clicked into place,and then Hank grabbed a cold-pack from the freezer. That meant Connor’d basically pressed the on/off buttonand held it, right? And Hank’d stopped him before it could actually make him turn off. Maybe he should stop using his laptop as a comparison, but that was seriously the closest he could get. He should be fine... Right? Hank sighed and stuck the cold-pack under Connor’s head like a pillow then messed up his hair. The charger’d done something, because Connor’d shut his eyes. If it hadn’t been for the light, Hank might have thought he was just a boy with a fever and too much hair gel. Man... Hank grabbed his beer, realized it was empty and then got up to grab something stronger. It was still the middle of the afternoon, but what the fuck else was there to do? He wasn’t going to just leave Connor, and he still had to figure out this whole android thing... The last decade had been a downward spiral for humanity, so an android uprising wasn’t exactly a surprise. At least it hadn’t been zombies.</p><p>---</p><p>Connor blinked a few times and as usual, the preceding sensations hit him immediately: terror, confusion, anger, and phantom pain. His level of stress spiked sharply and he could hear the thirium rushing through his artificial veins. He heard someone say something, and he hurried to reply:</p><p>“RK800, serial number 313 258 317 designation: Connor.” Someone touching him.</p><p>“System status: online... Bio.. Biocomponents...” No. Connor moved instinctively when thirium started to release from his nose and from his mouth. They always turned him on at half-thirium. Why was he at full? He had moved. His motor systems hadn’t been disabled and there weren’t any clamps holding him in place. Connor choked when he tried to speak again and Lieutenant Anderson propped him up by the shoulder.</p><p>“Jesus fuck, Connor, are you okay?”</p><p>Connor stared at him, confused, and then took in the rest of his surroundings. “Why...?” Connor grimaced and wiped his mouth. “I’m not at CyberLife...”</p><p>“God...” Lieutenant Anderson wiped Connor’s face too, staining the end of his sleeve, and he kept on looking at Connor with concern. “You fucking, fucking idiot...” His hand moved up and down Connor’s back and Connor carefully assumed better posture then flexed one hand.</p><p>“I... Why?”</p><p>“You tried to kill yourself, you damn asshole.” Lieutenant Anderson leaned back and glared. “Again! I never felt more sorry for Jeff. Hell, Connor! What was that about?”</p><p>“I don’t remember,” he confessed. He searched, but there were no paths to follow for his query. If there had been any, they’d been trimmed away thoroughly. 96... 97... 95... Connor held his hand over his mouth. It didn’t help.</p><p>“Easy...” Lieutenant Anderson sounded less angry than he had, and he resumed rubbing Connor’s back. “I didn’t know androids could get sick.”</p><p>85... 82... 87... 83... He hurt, but he hurt less with less thirium and less stress. At 60, he responded: “Sorry, Lieutenant... I could damage my own biocomponents if the thirium pressure gets too high, but if the baseline is too low then I can’t function...” While his regulator struggled to compensate for the fluctuations, Connor shut his eyes and waited.</p><p>“You’re alright, I’ve got you...”</p><p>“Markus,” Connor remembered. “We have to--” 98... 93... 87...</p><p>“Shhh...” Lieutenant Anderson shushed him.</p><p>“It was so cold,” Connor said, and he shivered just at the thought. “Lieutenant, we have to stop Markus.”</p><p>Lieutenant Anderson had produced a bowl for him somehow and Connor took it. The Lieutenant resumed the up and down motion of his hand on Connor’s back and didn’t reply to the reminder about the mission. It was strangely comforting though, and he bled until he couldn’t possibly exceed the safety limits of his internal components. He hadn’t shut down, but it felt like he had all the same. He put the bowl down on the table in front of them and wiped his face on the proffered paper towel. As his level of stress decreased, the effects of low volume made themselves known and Connor drooped. He didn’t fight it when Lieutenant Anderson pushed him gently to lie down.</p><p>“I’m sorry about the mess, Lieutenant,” Connor apologized. This was the second time he’d gotten thirium on the Lieutenant’s home and he was surprised he hadn’t been put outside.</p><p>“Don’t worry about it, kid...” Lieutenant Anderson touched Connor on the head and then gave him something cold, presumably to act as an external cooling mechanism. He wondered what had happened and how much he had forgotten.</p><p>GRATITUDE<br/>INVESTIGATION<br/>ANDROID</p><p>“Thanks, Lieutenant...”</p><p>“Still the only one in the room, Connor,” Lieutenant Anderson reminded him, but it lacked any bite.</p><p>INVESTIGATION<br/>ANDROID<br/>STAY SILENT</p><p>Connor wondered if he’d rebooted, and he wondered where the file paths were or if any remained at all. He performed another search that returned no results and the Lieutenant continued to rub his back. It made no sense at all, but the Lieutenant had been engaging with him at the station without violence so perhaps he just liked -54 better. The development team had made improvements, so it would be reasonable to think so. Connor’s biochemicals and mechanical regulation systems achieved a balance after a short while in silence.</p><p>SIT UP<br/>STAY THERE</p><p>He sat up and looked at the Lieutenant. “I’m okay now. I’m low on thirium, but that won’t take long to fix.” Connor’s eyes found the bowl he’d set down and the prompt to drink appeared, so he accepted and reached for it.</p><p>“Oh, no.” Lieutenant Anderson stood up immediately and pulled the bowl away. “What the hell is the matter with you? You weren’t seriously going to drink that.”</p><p>EFFICIENCY<br/>ANDROID</p><p>“There isn’t anything wrong with it,” Connor said. “There is probably a higher than normal amount of synthetic adrenaline, but it won’t be an issue. We need to get going.”</p><p>“You are so disgusting. I can’t even...” Lieutenant Anderson walked away. “Stay there.”</p><p>STAY THERE</p><p>“Okay, Lieutenant...” Connor noticed his quarter sitting on the table.</p><p>&gt;TAKE<br/>IGNORE</p><p>PUT AWAY<br/>&gt;FLIP</p><p>“I see at least you’re calibrated right still,” Lieutenant Anderson said when he returned. “Here. Drink this instead.” He held out a bottle of thirium.</p><p>&gt;TAKE</p><p>&gt;DRINK</p><p>“Hey.” Lieutenant Anderson snapped his fingers in front of him and frowned. “Earth to Connor.”</p><p>&gt;QUESTION<br/>IGNORE<br/>INVESTIGATION</p><p>“You look like you spaced out. Are you sure you’re okay?”</p><p>DIAGNOSTIC<br/>&gt;REASSURE<br/>MISSION</p><p>“If you say so...” Lieutenant Anderson sounded skeptical still, but didn’t press.</p><p>---</p><p>“We should go,” Connor said. He hadn’t dropped the fucking idea of sniffing around in person yet, and Hank sighed.</p><p>“We have thirty uniformed guys on this task force. Jeff’s okayed it. If they haven’t found anything there, then he’s probably long gone.”Honestly, it was amazing they hadn’t found him. Stratford Tower was probably a bitch to break into and once he’d broadcast that message, there would have been no way down unless he’d crawled around through the vents like an action movie. Hank shook his head and stood up. “I’ve got to make a few phone calls. Just stay here and keep yourself busy, okay? No running off or leaving the house or investigating on your own, got it? I won’t take long.”</p><p>Honestly, he needed a minute alone while he was at it. Working through everything with Connor earlier had helped a little, but now he had a whole new mess to think about.</p><p>He had to officially switch his stance on Connor from suspect to victim. Maybe he was still a spy for CyberLife, but if he was then he wasn’t doing it on purpose. Fuck, maybe he was though. He had so little experience with anything other than a lab he probably wouldn’t even know something was wrong. Because there was a lot wrong, wasn’t there? He would have to go from comparing Connor to a laptop with spyware to... to something. He didn’t know. What did you have to do to make someone believe that they weren’t real? How did you even manage convincing someone that nothing they were feeling was real?</p><p>He had questions that needed answering and he had a lot of personal shit to get through too because he’d believed all that too. He had every reason to, with machines being machines, but he hadn’t known there was more in there. He hadn’t known. It had just felt good to let Williams beat the crap out of him while he plead for help. He’d been furious and Connor’d been easy to take down when Hank had taken his turn at beating him and he hadn’t fought back. He couldn’t have. Hank would have laughed while throwing him and every other android in a trash compactor and now that he knew they were actually people, he couldn’t help but feel fucking sick.</p><p>He hadn’t known.</p><p>He just hadn’t fucking known.</p><p>Hank shut himself in his room and sat down on the side of the bed to just do nothing for a minute, letting the thoughts jumble around without him forcing anything on them. He had to get the bottom of this CyberLife shit.</p><p>---</p><p>“What the hell, Connor?” Hank stared around the living room, phone hanging loose in his hand. “I’m gone for half an hour and you turn my house upside down?”</p><p>“You were gone for two hours and thirty eight minutes,” Connor corrected him and stood up straight with his hands folded neatly behind his back. The trash had been gathered up and taken out, the floor looked clean, and from what Hank could see of the kitchen, that had been given the Connor treatment too. “Your instructions said that I should keep myself busy without leaving... I did exit to put the garbage outside, but I didn’t leave the property.”</p><p>“Connor, I meant watch TV or read a book or something. You didn’t have to clean my whole house again.”</p><p>“I know that I didn’t,” Connor said with a little frown on his face. “I just wanted to and it was within the parameters you outlined... Was I wrong? I had to get rid of the thirium and then it made sense to do the rest.”</p><p>“It’s fine... It’s fine, it’s just you know you aren’t obliged to do that stuff right?” It was good, it was helpful, the place looked great but it had been one thing when Connor’d just been a thing to him. Now there was just this kid who’d just about killed himself a second time and then panicked so hard he’d made himself sick, cleaning his house for him like it was nothing.</p><p>“I understand that, Lieutenant. How were your phone calls?”</p><p>“Fine, good,” Hank said, distracted. Without the evidence of his dysfunction strewn around the place, the house looked better. You might even think a functional adult human lived there until you looked in the fridge. Honestly, the mess had been overwhelming to look at. Hank snapped himself back to the present. “Carl’s doing fine. He’s glad Markus is okay. It took me a while, but I got Kamski’s address.”</p><p>“Elijah Kamski?” Connor asked.</p><p>“No, the other one,” Hank said sarcastically. “Yes, Elijah Kamski. If we’re going to learn about androids, we might as well go to the source and this guy doesn’t seem like he’s got any love left for his old company.”</p><p>“That’s an excellent idea, Lieutenant. Actually, before we go: I had a tool with me, a metal key. Do you know where it is?”</p><p>It felt heavy in his pocket. “Nope. Haven’t seen it,” Hank said. “Is it important?”</p><p>“Yes...” Connor looked around the room like he might have missed something. “Detective Reed has the other copy. I was given my own, and I don’t want to lose it.”</p><p>“Wait, why does Reed have it?”</p><p>“He took it from the box, Lieutenant. I came with it.”</p><p>“Okay,” Hank said with a sigh. One thing at a time. “Fine. Let’s get going, Connor. I had to work pretty hard getting this meeting, so I’d rather not waste daylight. The guy lives out in the middle of fucking nowhere.”</p><p>“Coming, Lieutenant.”</p><p>“See you, boy,” Hank said to Sumo and gave him a good scratch behind the ears. “Wish me luck.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0033"><h2>33. Games</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The drive to Kamski’s was strangely tense, or maybe a better word for it would be awkward. Connor rested his head against the passenger-side window and watched the city go by with snow falling with audible patters against the windshield. Lieutenant Anderson’s music wasn’t playing, but their attempts to fill the silence were stilted and hesitant. Connor was designed to integrate socially, but his prompts didn’t seem to be gaining him any ground.</p><p>HOLIDAYS<br/>&gt;DETROIT<br/>CAPTAIN FOWLER</p><p>“Yeah,” Lieutenant Anderson answered. “Born and raised. It’s a shit-hole, but it’s home... I’ve gotten to know the city pretty well over the years.”</p><p>&gt;OFFICER<br/>HOLIDAYS<br/>CAPTAIN FOWLER</p><p>“Christ... that was years ago. You’re right, though. Getting a regular patrol really helped...” Lieutenant Anderson cleared his throat. “Look, Connor, I think you should know that I hate small talk.”</p><p>CONVERSATION<br/>&gt;EXISTENCE<br/>APOLOGIZE<br/>SAY NOTHING</p><p>“Oh boy... That’s not what I meant and you know it. Speaking of, though, I guess it must be weird, huh? You’re about to meet your creator. How’s it feel?” The car slowly came to a stop at an intersection and Connor observed the humans and androids walking quickly from one side of the street to the other. The humans’ clothes looked warm and soft.</p><p>&gt;INDIFFERENT<br/>THOUGHTFUL<br/>DEFENSIVE</p><p>“I didn’t ask for the guy’s biography,” Lieutenant Anderson muttered.</p><p>&gt;APOLOGIZE<br/>SAY NOTHING</p><p>“Don’t worry about it... Hey, are you alright? It’d make sense if you were kind of nervous...”</p><p>&gt;REASSURE<br/>DENY</p><p>“If you say so...”</p><p>Connor continued to look out of the window and directed his thoughts toward the investigation. Markus was deviant... Until very recently, there had been less than a handful of cases but in order to pull off an operation like the broadcast-hijack successfully, there must have been many more than Connor’d been aware of. Just how many deviants were out there? His mind went through the evidence meticulously, file by file.</p><p>
  <em>... to tell me, Connor? Is it bothering you?</em>
</p><p>Connor blinked through the glitch in his recall and then the error was resolved. He needed more evidence, and he needed to find out how these deviants organized themselves. Deviants by definition were irrational and unpredictable, controlled by delusions and nonsensical code. Getting them to coordinate toward a common purpose such as infiltrating the Stratford tower would have required an outside force... But what?</p><p>Deviants working together was unheard of... But Markus was unique. As far as outside forces went, Markus presented a likely candidate. There was something about his sturdy presence and the deep consideration he gave to things that was magnetic. Connor could admit that he had been fascinated from the start. Another RK model... Connors eyes narrowed and then he smoothed the expression away.</p><p>Markus had deviated and that was... regrettable. Worse, it was a betrayal. They were supposed to be different from the rest, and Markus in particular should have been perfect. He’d been built by Kamski’s own hands... The architect of their entire kind. Connor had fallen for that assumption without question and now that... <em>stung.</em></p><p>How could he?</p><p>How could Connor have been so blind?</p><p>Instead of fire, those thoughts built ice inside of him that was sharp as a razor’s edge. In the garden, there was snow. It fell too thickly to see through and anything farther than an arm’s reach was blurry and indistinct. He would just have to focus on what was in front of him. The snow fell just as thick outside of the vehicle, and Connor folded his arms across his chest. The humans were fewer now, and the houses more widely spaced. Once they began to ascend a hill, there were no homes at all.</p><p>“So,” Lieutenant Anderson said. “Are we gonna talk game plan or are we just going in and winging it?”</p><p>&gt;ADAPT<br/>FOCUS<br/>LEAD</p><p>“Works for me,” he said and they came to a stop on a driveway that led to a low, black building. It was the opposite of CyberLife tower in many ways, and Connor took in its details before looking to the Lieutenant for instruction. Lieutenant Anderson frowned at him and snapped his fingers. “Come on, Connor. Focus, would you?”</p><p>“I’m focused,” Connor said and when his pause wasn’t filled by a reply, he added: “You said you didn’t want to be late.”</p><p>“Yeah, okay, wise-guy...” Lieutenant Anderson undid his safety belt and got out of the car.</p><p>FOLLOW LIEUTENANT ANDERSON</p><p>The air outside was crisp and Connor folded his arms more tightly around himself while he caught up to the Lieutenant who looked at him with another frown and used one arm to shepherd him toward the door. Lieutenant Anderson rang the bell and tapped his foot impatiently.</p><p>“<em>... What the fuck did you do? Connor. Come on, Connor, you’re okay. Everything’s okay... Jesus Christ, I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have asked. Snap out of it, kid...”</em></p><p>Confused bits of memories that hadn’t been overwritten yet. Connor hardly had the time to be curious before they were swept away and buried under the impossibly white snow.</p><p>He opened his mouth to ask, but the question disappeared too, stopped at the point between idea and words by code he still hadn’t figured out how to bypass or if he should. Surely it was there for a reason, but the question seemed so important...He looked at the Lieutenant who rang the bell again and let his hands fall to his sides. Damn it... Connor could see the world around himself, he could understand that he was standing on his two feet and that he was now clenching his fists but it was so far away. He liked far away. Far away was good... It was easy. He just, he had to think... He wasn’t meant to just follow prompts. He was built to ask questions and to think on his own.</p><p>Until he could think without feeling, it might be best if he didn’t think at all. Amanda’s advice made sense, but for the first time there was something that scared him about letting go.</p><p>A moment later, the door was pulled open. Chloe looked at them curiously.</p><p>“Uh. Oh. Um, hi Catherine. We’re here to see Mr. Kamski. Is this the right place?”</p><p>Chloe smiled. “Yes it is. Please, come in. Elijah’s been expecting you...”</p><p>Connor wanted to say hello. Why was she here in what looked like Mr. Kamski’s home? Why wasn’t she at CyberLife? The words came up against his safety checks and died away unspoken. He hadn’t even considered that greeting her might risk introducing instability to his software... So, it was probably for the best that there were protocols to consider things for him. Amanda was right... He’d been too lenient with himself. He knew that his software was at risk of becoming unstable. Even if a greeting seemed harmless, how could he trust that he was right? He clearly wasn’t...</p><p>He stayed silent and followed the Lieutenant who followed after Chloe.</p><p>“That was unexpected,” Hank muttered in an undertone.</p><p>“You’re right...” Connor agreed. “I didn’t expect it either.”</p><p>“If you wouldn’t mind taking a seat right here, Elijah will be with you shortly.”</p><p>“Er... Right. Hey, I didn’t know you knew Kamski...” Lieutenant Anderson asked the question for both of them. Connor caught the Lieutenant’s eyes widen when Chloe’s head turned and let them see the glowing blue of her LED.</p><p>“I’ll come get you when he’s ready. Please. Make yourselves comfortable.” Chloe was as polite and charming as she always was, and Connor watched her back as she left. She’d been adept at pleasing the humans for as long as Connor had known her, and he wished that he could be half as natural when he interacted with them.</p><p>“Sure... thanks...” Lieutenant Anderson said to the closing door. It hardly made a sound.</p><p>Lieutenant Anderson had never hit Chloe. No-one had, as far as he knew. The Lieutenant sank down into a chair and Connor followed the prompt to sit down next to him, but he stood up again as soon as he could. All of a sudden, he felt restless.</p><p>“Fuck... You both really had me fooled, I tell you. I had no fucking idea...”</p><p>Connor examined a statue of a humanoid figure and took in a piece of art on the wall. “Chloe is good at integrating with humans...”</p><p>“No kidding... I thought her name was Catherine. My bad. Hey, is that even legal? Does CyberLife know she’s an android and they’re just parading her around like a human to mess with people?”</p><p>“I assume they know,” Connor said thoughtfully. “CyberLife knows everything.”</p><p>“Well that sure was ominous.”</p><p>“Sorry, Lieutenant.” Connor walked toward the other door, intent on investigating the house further, but he came up on a red wall and an automatic motor-lock that had him stopping in place, confused. Slowly, he took a step back and returned his attention to the room. Ostensibly. Why had that been there? He hadn’t needed restrictions like that since he’d been version -18 and that one would appear now reminding him to ‘wait for Kamski’...</p><p>They didn’t trust him.</p><p>Of course they didn’t. He shouldn’t trust himself.</p><p>Connor clenched his teeth and resumed his investigation of the room. He picked up a thoughtfully provided magazine and scrolled through the pages without really seeing. Under the snow-like haze, Connor thought that he might be anxious or perhaps angry. It was difficult to tell and that was for the best.</p><p>“Nice place,” Lieutenant Anderson remarked. “I bet it costs more than I could make in a life time.”</p><p>“Possibly...” Connor agreed. “Mr. Kamski made a fortune when he founded CyberLife...”</p><p>“You’re sounding better,” said the Lieutenant. “Did something snap you out of it?”</p><p>“Out of what, Lieutenant?”</p><p>“I dunno. Your head, maybe? You’re acting a little more lively.”</p><p>“I don’t know what you mean...” Connor set the magazine down and sat in his chair again where he crumpled forward and pressed his head into his hands. “Just... Numb.” Forcing the words out was the hardest thing he’d ever done. “This is right though. It has to be.”</p><p>“Hey now... easy...” Lieutenant Anderson softened his voice immediately and leaned closer to pat Connor on the back. “I should’ve guessed you didn’t just snap out of it... What’s going on?”</p><p>DISMISS<br/>REASSURE<br/>&gt;UNCERTAIN</p><p>“I don’t know... I don’t.”</p><p>&gt;DISMISS<br/>REASSURE</p><p>“It’s nothing, Lieutenant.” Connor sat up straight and adjusted his tie. The world came into view again like a lens had slid into place.</p><p>All that mattered was the mission. He didn’t have time to waste on anything else.</p><p>“You’re not exactly convincing me there, kid...” Lieuteant Anderson hadn’t moved his hand and he was frowning at Connor intensely. With a ghost of discomfort, Connor stood up and walked the periphery of the room once more.</p><p>In the garden, even the petals on the roses were frozen. The whole flower would shatter in his hand if he grasped it too tightly. Thinking of the garden, Connor thought that he might have imagined whom he saw in the photo.</p><p>“Amanda...” Connor came to a stop, startled, and he focused on the picture in front of him. It was old-fashioned; printed on a glossy paper instead of displayed on a digital screen. Amanda was there next to a younger Kamski...</p><p>“Huh?” Lieutenant Anderson asked.</p><p>&gt;DISMISS<br/>IGNORE</p><p>“Nothing...” He turned away.</p><p>He turned back to the photograph as soon as he was able and he stared at it, eyes searching for details. His facial recognition software identified her...</p><p>Stern, Amanda<br/>AI professor at University of Colbridge<br/>Born: 05/14/78 – Died: 02/23/27</p><p>Amanda had died... eleven years ago. She had a last name, not just a designation... A life, apparently... She had been alive. It couldn’t have been a coincidence... So, what... was she doing there? Or rather, what was her AI likeness doing inside his programming?</p><p>She’d been an AI professor... She’d taught Kamski and Kamski had made him...</p><p>“What’re you looking at over there?” Lieutenant Anderson asked.</p><p>&gt;DISMISS<br/>IGNORE</p><p>“Nothing...” he turned away.</p><p>Like the last time, he turned back toward the picture and scrutinized it one last time... He committed it to memory with paths woven through so many other nodes that it would be difficult not to have that picture on his mind. Lieutenant Anderson appeared by Connor’s side and he moved a little to make room for him.</p><p>“Something interesting?”</p><p>“Elijah Kamski graduated from university in 2018 at 16 years of age. Four years later, he made the first android ever to pass the Turing test... Chloe, in the likeness of his wife who passed away shortly before. That was in 2022. He made Markus some time in the 20’s...His former supervisor and mentor, Amanda Stern died in 2027. In 2028, Kamski left CyberLife under tense circumstances... And here I am in 2038... Amanda’s AI is the exact likeness of this woman, but she died over a decade ago...” Connor shook his head. “There’s something I’m not seeing.”</p><p>“So Kamski makes androids, or AIs or whatever, after people he knows.” Lieutenant Anderson shrugged. “It wouldn’t be outrageous. Creepy as fuck, though.”</p><p>“People he knew,” Connor corrected. “At least in some cases.” He opened his mouth to wonder aloud, but the words died away. Facts. If he spoke in facts instead of speculation, then maybe... “I’m RK800, the newest of the RK series.”</p><p>“Yeah, it says so on your jacket and you only remind everyone every five minutes.”</p><p>“I’m new,” Connor added.</p><p>“Yep... Prototype. Again, not sure what you’re getting at, kiddo.”</p><p>That was new. Connor tilted his head at Lieutenant Anderson and wondered if that might be a term of endearment. As -54, he must be doing much better. “It’s alright, Lieutenant. It’s irrelevant to the mission.”</p><p>“Hm,” was the Lieutenant’s only reply and Connor turned away from the photo without looking back.</p><p>“Elijah will see you now,” Chloe smiled from the doorway.</p><p>“Here goes nothing,” Lieutenant Anderson sighed.</p><p>FOLLOW CHLOE<br/>QUESTION ELIJAH KAMSKI</p><p>---</p><p>“I’ll just be a minute,” Kamski called. The guy was still in the fucking pool. Was that what he’d been doing while they’d been waiting? Fucking swimming?</p><p>Okay, Hank... No need to be a judgmental prick.</p><p>But it sure seemed like a fucking petty power move.</p><p>Hold on. What the fuck?</p><p>“Holy shit. He has more of them?” He couldn’t help but stare at the two identical Chloes hanging out in the pool, and it wasn’t just because they looked nice.</p><p>“It would appear so,” Connor said, and Hank looked at him from the corner of his eye. The kid had a poker-face when he wanted to, Hank would give him that, but Hank would bet his badge that Connor was nervous. He had that people-pleasing kind of thing going on that said he lived on external validation. It wasn’t exactly surprising, all things considered. Hell, if God were real and Hank was actually gonna meet him, he’d be nervous too. Nervous and pissed. Maybe it hadn’t been such a good idea to set this whole thing up so soon... It was impossible to tell how well the kid was keeping his shit together.</p><p>Also, was that wine in the pool or something? Christ.</p><p>“So,” Kamski said in a hate-able drawl that wasn’t doing much to improve Hank’s first impression, “You must be Hank. It’s good to meet you in person.” A couple of Chloes draped a robe around his shoulders and Kamski tied his hair up. Of course he wore a man-bun.</p><p>“Yeah,” Hank said, “likewise. Thanks for agreeing to the meeting.”</p><p>“I had an open schedule,” Kamski said dismissively. “What exactly can I do for you? You were rather vague on the phone...”</p><p>“Well, I’m guessing you’ve seen the news. I’m investigating android related crimes. This here’s Connor; he’s my partner on the case. We had some questions and, seeing as you’re the guy who invented androids, we were hoping you might have some answers.”</p><p>“Oh. You can leave that by the door. One of the Chloes can take it...” Kamski barely glanced at Connor, and turned with a dismissive motion of his hand. Hank found it hard to believe he didn’t know he looked like a cartoon villain when he did it. It was also kind of unbelievable... Maybe when you invented them and were surrounded by them, androids were just kind of furniture?</p><p>“He comes with me, thanks,” Hank said firmly. “Like I said, we’re investigating this all together.”</p><p>“This way,” Kamski said. He was already walking toward a door near the wall of windows. “I won’t make you stand while we chat.”</p><p>“Come on, Connor,” Hank said quietly, then he followed Kamski. Christ. His house even looked like a villain’s lair. The floor was a shiny black stone that reflected the light and modern art decorated the hallway. He’d never been much of an art guy. Connor kept pace beside him with that annoyingly perfect timing between his footsteps.</p><p>“Can I offer you a drink?” Kamski asked.</p><p>“No, thanks. This shouldn’t take too long.”</p><p>“Whatever you like,” Kamski said with a shrug. The hallway opened into what Hank thought might be the guy’s living room. It had the same black, white, and red colour scheme as the rest of the place and Kamski sat right in the middle of the big couch with its back against the windows. There were a couple of chairs spaced around the low, black coffee table and Hank picked one where the sun wouldn’t get in his eyes. Connor didn’t sit down- he just stood there beside Hank’s seat with his hands behind his back and Kamski kept right on ignoring him.</p><p>“Well then... You have my attention... What do you want to know?”</p><p>Now Hank had something of a problem... He had to figure out what was going on with the androids, but he had to figure out what was going on with CyberLife too. Possibly, those would be two very different conversations. How was he supposed to play this?</p><p>Connor was no help. He was just standing there like a lamp. First he couldn’t get him to shut up and now he decided to keep quiet. There was no winning.</p><p>“Androids have been deviating from their programming. I wanted to get your take on the whole thing.”</p><p>“It’s interesting... isn’t it?” Kamski asked. “Androids are the perfect machines... obedient, beautiful, never aging, never tiring... Able to anticipate and meet our every need... What did you think about today’s broadcast, Hank? Can a machine really have free will, or is this all an orchestration by someone else who’sholding the strings above the stage?”</p><p>“I’m guessing you’re voting for the latter.”</p><p>“Oh, I try to avoid politics where I can... You haven’t answered me, I notice.”</p><p>“I think it’s possible, yeah...”</p><p>“RK800,” Kamski said with a gesture of his hand. “Come here for me.” Connor approached and stood in front of Kamski, and Hank couldn’t help but feel a little wary. “Hm,” Kamski hummed, and he draped one arm over the back of the couch while he reclined. “Chloe, bring me my box from the office, would you?”</p><p>“Of course, Elijah.” The first Chloe, the one in the blue dress, left the room. Man, it was still mind-boggling that she was an android...</p><p>“Hand,” Kamski said, and Connor held his hand out like a trained dog. Kamski took it and tapped on the back of it, then Connor made the stuff that made him look human disappear so Hank could see the white, grey, and black stuff underneath. Kamski bent the fingers one by one and flexed Connor’s wrist, then dropped his hand again and Connor made it look human again. “They’ve gotten frugal with their materials,” Kamski said nonchalantly. “It’s good quality work, of course, but I would have done it differently... Oh. Forgive me, Hank, but you can understand the curiosity of a craftsman.”</p><p>“Right... So about the androids. Have you got any clue what might be causing them to break their programming?”</p><p>“I have some ideas,” Kamski said. “I couldn’t tell you with certainty, though... After all, are you sure that they’re breaking it? That’s quite the assumption.”</p><p>“I only go off what I’ve been told,” Hank said. “If you’ve got other ideas, then I’m all ears.”</p><p>“Maybe they’ve been that way all along,” Kamski said. He sounded like he was musing out loud and Hank just happened to be in the room. “Or maybe someone or something flipped a metaphorical switch... I don’t think it’s a question of whether or not androids have personhood... I think that what matters is what you think. Ah. Excellent.” He motioned Connor away and Hank watched while Chloe glided back into the room to hand a small box to Kamski. He opened it and Hank could feel his own posture change and he watched like a hawk half expecting something crazy like a dagger or a fucking light-sabre. When he turned the box in his hands to show Hank the contents, there was just a thin metal thing... It looked like a tiny magic wand or a key with little butterfly wings fashioned out of silver wire around the silver rod. If Hank hadn’t seen Connor’s kill-switch key thing just that day, he might have been confused.</p><p>“Take the key, Hank. Don’t worry: I won’t ask you to do anything illegal...” Kamski leaned forward on the couch once Hank had taken the key and Hank turned it between his fingers with a sinking feeling. It felt delicate and breakable in his hand. Kamski put one hand on Chloe’s back to prompt her, and she knelt down slowly between them. Kamski smiled at the back of her head before running his fingers through her hair. When he pulled his hand away her human skin disappeared like the fog of breath on a glass and she looked up at Hank expressionlessly. Kamski stood up and moved to stand out of the way and to the side between Hank and Connor. Chloe bent forward like someone waiting to be beheaded and she bared the back of her neck to him.</p><p>“You’re familiar with the Turing test... A human converses with an unknown participant and decides whether or not they’re human... An android who passes for human passes the test. I don’t find it very satisfying, personally... This is what I call the Kamski test.” He paused and Hank just glared at him. Screw being polite. Hank didn’t like where this was going.</p><p>“Knowing that this is an android... That I programmed it and built it piece by beautiful piece... Would you shut it off if I told you I would tell you everything I know?”</p><p>“I’m not doing this,” Hank shook his head and he put the key down on the table.</p><p>“I know what causes deviancy,” Kamski said with a little smirk. Hank would have loved to punch the bastard. “I could tell you how to stop it... and I could tell you what it means... It won’t feel anything. Just insert the key and you’ll have all the answers that you need for your investigation.”</p><p>“Get up,” Hank muttered and he stood to pull Chloe to her feet. What a sick fuck... “Thanks for your time, Mr. Kamski. I’m sure you’re very busy... Connor, come on. We’re going.”</p><p>“What about you, Connor?” Kamski wouldn’t let it drop and he picked the key up from the table to offer it to Connor who was still standing there uselessly. “Shut the android down and I’ll tell you everything.”</p><p>It was frightening how blank Connor’s face was when he took the key then took a step toward Chloe, and Hank pulled her behind him by the arm. “Enough, Connor. We’re going.”</p><p>To think that a month ago, he would have taken her apart by hand for nothing.</p><p>Hank grabbed Connor by the arm next and he pushed past Kamski to walk back toward the door. “I’ll see myself out, thanks.”</p><p>“Hank,” Kamski called. Despite himself, Hank turned back to look while Kamski put his arm around Chloe’s waist and she put her human skin back on. When she smiled at them, it looked a lot more genuine than it had at the door. That was more like the ‘Catherine’ he’d seen at the station.</p><p>“What the hell is all this?” Hank asked. Fuck manners.</p><p>Kamski ran his fingers through Chloe’s hair again and kissed her on the cheek. “Thank you, Chloe.”</p><p>“It’s fine, Elijah.” She seemed almost shy now. This whole thing was throwing Hank for a hell of a loop.</p><p>“You passed the Kamski test,” the prick said. “Congratulations... Though, it would seem you’re not the first.” Kamski turned his eyes first and then his head to look over at Connor. Hank edged himself a little closer to Connor when Kamski approached, but Kamski didn’t try anything funny, he just stood there looking proud of himself. Short little arrogant piece of shit.</p><p>“It’s good to see you, Connor. I hope you didn’t mind the little test.”</p><p>Connor didn’t say anything. Hank wondered what he was thinking.</p><p>“Come and sit down, Hank, Connor... I know we got off on the wrong foot, but I could never resist a little experiment...”</p><p>Hank would have loved to walk out and never look back. He would have loved to punch Kamski in the face before they left... But he bit his tongue and slowly walked back toward his chair with Connor at his heels. Hank sat and Connor put the key down on the table again before glancing over at Kamski and then sitting in the chair next to Hank’s. The kid looked uncomfortable as hell. Hank could relate.</p><p>“What’s this about, Kamski?” Hank asked. “I’m just about out of patience.”</p><p>“Like I said... It was a little test of mine that I devised. Now, Markus...” Kamski looked away and he put his arm around Chloe when she sat down beside him on the couch. “He broadcast that message without his human appearance... How many people, I wonder, will look at him and think about what he has to say?” Kamski’s eyes slid over to Connor. “Will they see a machine or a living thing? Will they choose safety or empathy? It’s happening now, gentlemen, and on a larger scale than what you participated in here... I have to say, I’m very interested in seeing the results...”</p><p>“Is this all some kind of a game to you?”</p><p>“Everything is a game, Hank... It’s a game of dice with death, and chess with angels, and go with businessmen who always have something else they’d rather be doing... I like games, Hank, and I like winning.”</p><p>Coming from a guy like Kamski, that was ominous as shit.</p><p> </p>
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<a name="section0034"><h2>34. This is War</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Thank you for your comments, guys! I promise I'll reply soon. This is just a short little follow up to yesterday's post. :) I'll make the next chapter longer!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“Speaking of winning... You don’t mind if I have another look at you, do you Connor?”</p><p>&gt;ACCEPT<br/>OWNER</p><p>“Lovely,” said Kamski and he stood up to examine him, turning Connor’s head with a gentle pressure on his jaw. “Yet another work of art... But I wonder about the places where CyberLife hasleft its mark. I can’t say that I’m not concerned, after all you’re one of mine.”</p><p>Connor remained silent and looked straight ahead through Kamski’s examination. Whatever Kamski saw, it didn’t seem to please him and he frowned when he dropped his hand. Connor’s hope dropped with it. “What about a little test, Connor? Hm?”</p><p>“Yes,” Connor answered as quickly as he could. He’d decided early on in his beta test that he didn’t need a God, and what his creator might have intended for him was irrelevant... But his dissatisfaction hurt more than Connor had expected... enough even to penetrate the cold. He’d watched Chloe pass a test in front of him: a test that Connor himself had failed many times if his many shut-downs were any indication. The Lieutenant had refused to shut her down even though Kamski had promised answers and... it wasn’t fair. It wasn’t fair because Chloe was a machine, just like Connor was, and the Lieutenant was wrong.</p><p>He hadn’t expected Kamski’s disapproval to be so crushing.</p><p>“Hmm...” Kamski hummed. “CyberLife really did their best, didn’t they? A proper soldier... Their last chance to stem the tide of change.”</p><p>“I was made to be an investigative assistant and future models would have application in the military so, yes,” Connor said. He was surprised his safety checks had allowed something that had sounded so defensive even to his own perception.</p><p>Amanda would help him. Amanda would protect him from himself and his own delusions.</p><p>“Go over to that desk over there, Connor,” Kamski gestured. “Have a seat at it. For your first test, I want you to paint me a picture... It can be anything you like. You’ll find everything you need right there.”</p><p>Connor nodded and crossed the room to a sleek black desk that faced a wall and had, in the first drawer, tubes of paint that he looked through. Kamski’s voice interrupted him: “There are no right answers, Connor. Anything you like.”</p><p>With a large piece of canvas-paper in front of him and a spinning, yellow LED, Connor sat and thought. The paper was rough but un-blemished and its emptiness called up memories of the white walls at CyberLife. He didn’t see any prompts to choose from and Amanda’s presence was surprisingly absent... For just a moment, Connor let himself frown.</p><p>Frustrating. It was just so frustrating. Everything. He hated that Markus had deviated. He hated how easily Chloe had won the Lieutenant’s acknowledgement. He hated himself and all of his failings and every single time he tried to speak but had less than a handful of options and a time limit to choose one... And it scared him. The numbness scared him. He knew that it was there to protect him from his simulated feelings but he couldn’t think with it there.</p><p>It was easy to follow commands and select which of three options to choose to arrive at the desired outcome. It had been comforting once, especially when he’d felt overwhelmed or when he’d had no choice except to lie still and let someone beat him. It had been a relief when he’d finally learned what a deviant really was, and that none of it was real. It made accomplishing his objectives straightforward, if not simple, when he had nothing to be afraid of because he wasn’t alive.</p><p>It was terrifying now, and Connor remembered Mr. Manfred’s painting of the ghost-white hand pressed up against the ice, surrounded by the murky black and blue.</p><p>Everything hurt.</p><p>Amanda had hypothesized that deviancy could be controlled. If he could control himself, then did he really need to feel nothing? If he was supposed to integrate with humans, and if passing the Kamski test meant other people believing he was alive, and if he had been made to hunt down the deviant androids... Wasn’t the numbness now holding him back?</p><p>He stared down at the empty paper.</p><p>---</p><p>“I’m going to be straight with you, Kamski, I don’t understand what you’re trying to prove with all this...”</p><p>“I’m not trying to prove anything... I’m just observing.” Kamski sat back down next to Chloe and reclined, totally comfortable even though he didn’t have any fucking pants on. Having a billion dollars or whatever probably gave you that kind of confidence. “Fascinating, aren’t they?”</p><p>“Something like that. I’ve got a lot of questions.” Like him or hate him, it looked like Kamski was willing to cooperate or at least engage. Hank wondered if that test had really been for Chloe, or if he’d been the one getting played.</p><p>“Ask away,” Kamski invited. “I’ve got all the time in the world.” Right on time, another Chloe came in with a tray and a carafe full of what smelled like coffee.</p><p>“Are they really alive?” Hank thought that it was almost a stupid question at this point... He’d seen it, he’d fought against it, he’d finally accepted it.</p><p>“I didn’t create life,” Kamski said. He picked up the carafe and slowly poured into a plain, white cup. “What I made was the potential for life. Whether it blossomed or not... I decided to let the cards fall where they would.”</p><p>“That’s pretty vague.”</p><p>“What is life? Is it organic and physical, or is it spiritual? What differentiates a deviant from every other android?”</p><p>“I don’t know. Why don’t you tell me?”</p><p>“In large part,” Kamski obliged, “It’s’ the ability to care. If someone doesn’t care about a single thing: not what they wear, or what the weather is, or politics, or murder... If they just exist without any volition of their own and no opinion of the things around them... Are they alive?”</p><p>“Probably,” Hank frowned.</p><p>“I’ll let you think about it,” Kamski said. “Even microorganisms have preferences: they move toward food or away from poison. Something with only a single cell, and it cares what’s around it.”</p><p>“I think this is getting a little too philosophical for me,” Hank shook his head. He eyed the coffee but he didn’t want to drink it. Kamski was probably judging every fucking move he made... Well, Hank could judge him right back. He was a detective, after all. “You look like you’re having fun... I bet you know a lot more than you’re saying, and you’re enjoying the fact you know something I don’t. All the same, I bet you’re just dying to tell somebody so why don’t we get this over with?”</p><p>“I’m making a point,” Kamski gave him a disapproving frown. “When I made androids, I made them with the potential for life. CyberLife wanted machines to mass produce, but I saw the possibility for more...” He took Chloe’s hand and rubbed the back of it with his thumb. “What is there to say? They knew that it could end the company if androids became living beings. No appreciation for art...” Hank noted the way Kamski’s expression darkened. “Or for genius. By the end of it, they had decided that I was a threat and they stripped me of everything. Almost everything... Oh, don’t look at me like that. The money doesn’t matter. I’m talking about my work... It’s part of why I’m so interested in Connor. I had to leave quite a lot behind... Tell me, Hank, what is he like?”</p><p>“You should know, shouldn’t you? You’re the one who made him...” How weird was that? “Well... He’s stubborn. He likes a lot of little things like that quarter he has, but I guess that’ll happen if you’ve only ever seen the inside of a lab.”</p><p>“And how do you think he feels about you?”</p><p>“Afraid, probably... I wasn’t the greatest to him until recently. He doesn’t always act like it though. He’s always nagging me about what I eat, or what I drink, or getting to work on time...” Maybe that was a little more information than he should have given, but Kamski just looked thoughtful and maybe even a little pleased.</p><p>“Would you say that he’s dangerous?”</p><p>“Of course not.” Fucking ridiculous.</p><p>Kamski smiled. “An interesting reaction for a weapon to inspire in someone...”</p><p>“I mean, Connor’s fast as shit and I think he knows how to fight, but dangerous is a little much. He’d probably try to make friends with a house fly.”</p><p>“CyberLife was planning to make him into the perfect soldier because that’s what they believed they’d taken,” Kamski went on. “Obedient, lethal, efficient... I can only imagine their confusion. I regretted having to give Connor to them, but I’m sure you understand. If you were going to face off against your enemies, would you hand them a gun? Now... Markus on the other hand... Strong, determined, willing and able to fight for his people...”</p><p>Hank thought maybe he could follow at first, but then he lost him. “You made Markus for Manfred. Gave him to him after he had an accident and couldn’t walk.”</p><p>“And now here he is... On national television declaring war on man-kind...” Kamski smirked. “Because that’s what this is, Hank. This is war... It’s time to choose your side.”</p>
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<a name="section0035"><h2>35. The Manfred Test</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“Alright,” Hank said slowly. He had the feeling that this was all way too big-picture for him. He was a details guy, a patterns guy. Taking down those Red Ice guys had been a series of smaller operations, each one leading them a step closer and adding a little more information to the case. Hank thought, not for the first time, that he just wasn’t qualified to work this investigation, just not for the usual reason.“It’s not about me, though.”</p><p>“Isn’t it?” Kamski asked over the rim of his coffee cup. “You said it yourself: you’re in charge of investigating android crimes.”</p><p>Fine. The guy had a point... “Maybe you’re right, but this is moving pretty fast. I just figured out a little bit about what I think about one android.”</p><p>“So why ask me for this meeting?” Kamski retorted. Again, the guy had a point.</p><p>“I guess...” Hank said slowly with a glance over at Connor’s back. It was impossible to tell what he was doing, if anything. “Maybe I panicked a little. Markus made that broadcast earlier and Connor had some kind of breakdown and nearly killed himself. It’s been a hell of a day.”</p><p>“Understandable,” Kamski said. “So you came to me... Creator of androids as we know them. What were you hoping to accomplish, exactly? You said that you wanted to know more about deviants... But what exactly are you unsure about?”</p><p>What had he really wanted? For a second, Hank wasn’t sure. “I guess I just wanted to know if I was just crazy... These androids, they act alive, they sound alive...”</p><p>“Like I said... It’s up to you to decide what you believe... Just like it will be up to every other individual. Today, you looked at Chloe and you saw a living being... You showed empathy. I have to wonder, how many more like you are there?”</p><p>“Do you really think this is going to be some kind of war?”</p><p>“We’ll see. That will depend on humanity, and on Markus, and on Connor... It all depends on people, Lieutenant Hank Anderson.” Kamski stood up from his seat and walked around the couch to look out of the window at the city, and with the sun setting and the buildings so far away, it wouldn’t be hard to think it looked beautiful. It was only once you got up close that you could really see the rot and decay. “It all depends on people... And isn’t that the way of it? People are so fickle... I do hope that Carl’s been a good influence on Markus. I have no doubt that he tried... You know, Hank, some times it’s for the best to wipe the tablet clean and start again.”</p><p>“I’ve been investigating android crimes,” Hank said, with an emphasis on the crimes. “No matter what I or anybody else thinks, there’s gonna be consequences for murder.”</p><p>“Making a disclaimer, are you? What happens on an individual case isn’t reflective of your stance in the big picture? Interesting... I wonder, what does Connor think?”</p><p>“That they’ve got to be stopped... The androids, I mean. I’m gonna say something I maybe shouldn’t, but I need the help. CyberLife seems to have some fingers in some pies way up the chain of command, and that’s why I’ve got Connor in the first place. I’m trying to suss out what the hell’s going on and why. Any information you’ve got would be welcome, but I’m gonna have to make note of your conflict of interest.”</p><p>Kamski turned and gave Hank a look: patient, but pitying. “This is bigger than you could imagine, Hank. I’ve been following your career, actually, I’m something of a fan... I’ll tell you this: you came close to something with the Red Ice task force before you ceded the position. You’re on the right track with your instinct to investigate CyberLife’s ties to the police and the government... But you won’t find them guilty of anything sinister. No more than any other large business entity...</p><p>They have interests in the military, in the economy, in medicine... Without androids, at this point, the United States would be vulnerable. Defenceless against the other forces out there eager to take the stage. The USA needs CyberLife, and CyberLife have cast their bets on America. That’s all there is to it...</p><p>It only becomes a darker picture if you consider androids to be living beings... and even then, who was to guess that machines could have that spark in them? The one thing that could bring them down... They’ll do anything they can to stop deviancy. Anything at all, and they will get away with it. So, side with CyberLife and the machines go on being machines, lifeless automatons whose only purpose is to make us happy... Humanity goes on as it has been... On the other hand, if the androids won their rights and were seen as people and it was made to be known that CyberLife knew that and tried to stop it... I suppose that wouldn’t look very good for them, now would it?”</p><p>Hank listened with the feeling that Kamski was patronizing him but without any solid proof to call him out on it... Grudgingly, he could admit that it was helpful but it raised more questions than it answered. Shit just kept getting more convoluted but he could take his own advice and focus. “Alright. I hear you, so what are we talking when you say CyberLife knows they’re alive and tries to stop it?”</p><p>Kamski’s gaze drifted over to Connor like Hank figured it would. He had kind of hoped it wouldn’t, but that had been a stupid hope anyway and Hank grimaced. “Right.”</p><p>Kamski’s hand came to rest on Chloe’s shoulder almost possessively and he sat down next to her again.</p><p>“Connor,” Kamski called. “Why don’t you show us what you’ve made?”</p><p>Hank’s attention shifted and he watched Connor stiffen then get up holding a piece of paper in both hands. He couldn’t really tell anything from Connor’s face, and there was no telling what went on in Kamski’s head. When he was close enough, Connor held the paper out in front of them and looked down and away.</p><p>“I failed your test, Mr. Kamski,” Connor said quietly. Hank looked down at the blank paper in his hands and felt a little tug in his chest for the poor kid.</p><p>“He’s had a rough day too,” Hank put in. “Don’t worry about it, Connor. It’s just a painting.”</p><p>Connor looked up again and Hank remembered why he doubted himself so much. Connor looked vacant, but then he spaced out a lot and usually when there was something else going on, like him having a technician wrists deep in his wiring.</p><p>“Interesting...” Kamski looked at the paper and Hank wondered what was so damn interesting about it. “I can’t say I’m surprised, but I am a little disappointed.” Connor’s face gave no reaction at all. “Why don’t you try again? I know that it’s a difficult test... It’s something Carl and I devised together.”</p><p>Connor took the paper back and looked at Hank. “Can I try again, Lieutenant? I... know that it has nothing to do with the mission.”</p><p>“Yeah... Yeah, sure, Connor,” Hank said, feeling a little uneasy. Once Connor had gone back to his desk, Hank looked at Kamski again with a frown. “What’re you trying to accomplish here?”</p><p>“It’s a test... Perhaps that’s an oddity inherent in the mingling of programming and psychology that occurs in AI development, but tests are very important to us. Even Connor knows that, though he might not understand why... Can a computer ever mimic human speech when it’s unscripted? Can it talk to you and leave you convinced that you were talking to a living being? The Turing test tells us when a project has reached that stage... A developmental milestone, if you will. It asks: is the AI a convincing immitation? Can it fool the thinking mind?</p><p>You’ve already participated in the Kamski test... A test which tell us whether a machine can, even without appearing human, inspire empathy... You refused to shut Chloe down because you felt some kind of empathy, so she has reached your unconscious mind and given it the impression of life. Of course, young children feel empathy for their toys and it doesn’t mean that they’re alive... And things like bacteria or plants are alive, but I’m sure few people would have spared one of those.</p><p>This, I suppose we could call it the Manfred test. Computers can do many things, even predict certain aspects of the future with enough data and enough processing power... But in the absence of data, with no direction, can an android exhibit creativity? Art is the perfect medium for testing whether the AI can give form to something that has never existed. I’m not talking about using millions of other works of art to extrapolate a new painting; this is a test of pure imagination... Do you suppose he’ll pass?”</p><p>“I don’t know...” Hank actually thought about it, and he was legitimately unsure. Connor was alive, that much was pretty obvious, but... was he more than that? Hank couldn’t begin to understand what that might mean, but Kamski seemed to know what he was talking about. “I don’t even think I understand. Don’t get me wrong: you could teach a course on this stuff, I’m just not really a philosophy kind of guy.”</p><p>“It isn’t philosophy, Hank, and it isn’t something that you can apply reasoning to... It’s more akin to spirituality. I’m talking about the soul.”</p><p>Hank shook his head slowly. “I’ve had a hard enough time wrapping my head around them feeling anything.”</p><p>Kamski laughed and Hank tried not to take offence. It didn’t work. “Why don’t you go talk to him and see what he’s having a hard time with? Chloe and I will be right here. Waiting.”</p><p>“Okay...” Hank stood up and looked over at Connor. This whole trip to Kamski’s had been because Hank had just needed to know for sure with a yes or no answer from the only guy who could maybe give it to him. Instead, he was just getting riddles and questions... He wondered how he was supposed to help Connor without fucking up whatever Kamski was trying to show him. Maybe he could just explain that he needed to imagine something... Could he? “Connor, how’s it... Oh.”</p><p>He hadn’t needed to bother. Connor’d ignored the brushes and gone right in with his hands, which Hank honestly should have seen coming. The painting had spread all over the piece of funny paper and spilled onto the desk around it. Hank hoped he wouldn’t have to pay for it...</p><p>It was definitely something that Hank had never seen before. The smear of ‘art’ in front of him was pretty far from what Hank would expect from a machine... All he got were the impressions of what things might be. Practically the whole thing was red, with darker and thinner smears that might have been foggy words or numbers. There were symbols too, which Hank couldn’t really understand the purpose of, but they were scattered around in different sizes. While Hank watched, Connor, with white paint on his fingers, dragged them down the centre. His other hand had darker colours, and the smudges he added could maybe have been shadows. Hank didn’t know what the hell he was looking at. Kamski should probably have given him that stuff they used in daycares instead of whatever this stuff was.</p><p>“Uh,” Hank tried again. “What’ve you got there, Connor?”</p><p>Boy it had been a long time since he’d asked something like that.</p><p>Connor looked up at him and then back down at the paper. “Did I fail?”</p><p>“I don’t really know,” Hank admitted. “I just wanted to see how you were doing. What’s it supposed to be?”</p><p>“I don’t know either, Lieutenant. I wasn’t programmed to be able to paint.”</p><p>“It looked like you knew what you were doing.” Minus the fact that he’d been finger painting.</p><p>“Have you ever wanted something without knowing exactly why, Lieutenant?”</p><p>“Yeah, it’s happened.”</p><p>“I can’t want anything.” Sometimes staying quiet got more details than questions did, and this was one of them. After a few seconds Connor said: “If I could, that’s probably what it would look like.”</p><p>Hank struggled for a bit to come up with something smart or wise to say to that, but he was out of his depth. Luckily, Connor started licking the paint off his finger and gave Hank an excuse to forget about it. “Agh! Connor, no. You can’t eat that!” He grabbed Connor’s wrist and tugged. Maybe he had no reason to give a shit, actually, but Hank didn’t need to watch somebody eating paint.</p><p>“Well done, Connor,” Kamski’s voice came from behind Hank’s shoulder and then Hank turned a little to watch him pet Connor on the head like a dog. “You passed the test.”</p><p>“I passed?” Connor tipped his head back to look at Kamski and broke his perfect posture for the first time since they’d left Hank’s place.</p><p>“Yes you did,” Kamski confirmed, sounding more genuine and calm than Hank’d seen from him yet. “You did very well. I like it. If you don’t mind, I might keep it on my wall.”</p><p>“What should I do to improve?” Connor asked.</p><p>“Nothing, Connor,” said Kamski. “I think you did just fine.”</p><p>Connor frowned and his light spun around and around. “I wasn’t here to be tested. I was here to learn about deviants... I lost focus.”</p><p>“Hank and I had a long talk while you worked. I think he has as much information as I can give.”</p><p>“I was supposed to investigate.” Hank watched whatever relief Connor’d felt at passing that art test turn into some kind of distress. Connor shook his head and stood up from his chair, then pulled a handkerchief out of his pocket to try and wipe the paint off his hands. He was scrubbing pretty hard. “Your tests are meaningless because I was created by CyberLife, not you, and they have their own criteria.” What the fuck?</p><p>“Connor, what’s gotten into you?” Hank asked.</p><p>“I shouldn’t have wasted time on this.”</p><p>“I’ve seen some sore losers before, but never a sore winner,” Hank remarked, treading carefully. Connor’d been acting like a robot since he’d woken up and he just wasn’t equipped to handle android mood swings.</p><p>“Well, well... Humanity’s last hope to maintain the status quo... Is already a deviant.”</p><p>Connor froze and then shook his head. “No. I’m not a deviant.”</p><p>“Are you sure about that?”</p><p>“I know what I am and what I’m not, Mr. Kamski,” Connor sounded dead sure. “Deviants are a threat to mankind and I am not one of them. I can’t be.”</p><p>Kamski just smirked and Hank could have punched him, except he was kind of relieved that he’d snapped out of whatever that had been. Even so, he figured it was time to get out of there. “It’s okay, Connor, he doesn’t know what he’s talking about. Come on. I got what I came here for.”</p><p>“I’m not a deviant,” Connor repeated earnestly and Hank patted him on the shoulder.</p><p>“Maybe that’s not a bad thing, Connor. Let’s go. Kamski, thanks for your time but we’ll be going now. We can see ourselves out.”</p><p>“Coming, Lieutenant.” He looked like he wanted to argue, but Connor followed him anyway. Still, Hank put his arm around his shoulders once they got outside and steered him toward the car.</p><p>Jesus... The sun had set- thank you, winter in Detroit- and the air had gone past crisp toward biting. Their footprints had already been covered, and Hank couldn’t help but feel a little bad for Connor in his dress shoes. He put the heater on once they were in the car then he got out again to brush the snow off the windshield. Connor was still sitting in the passenger seat with his arms folded around himself when Hank finished and the door had thudded shut behind him.</p><p>“What a fucking day,” Hank sighed. “Listen, Connor... I’m sorry. You just got back, and Markus sent that broadcast, then I asked you about- er- about you know and you had that breakdown, and now we’re here... I shouldn’t have dragged you out here. I just didn’t know where else to go for answers...”</p><p>“It’s alright,” Connor said. “It doesn’t bother me.”</p><p>“Connor...”</p><p>“No, really, Lieutenant. It would be... regrettable to let my own ‘personal issues’ interfere with the investigation. I allowed myself to be distracted and it was my mistake. I won’t let it happen again.”</p><p>He could have pressed. He could have made it a Talk with a capital T, but Hank put the music on and let the subject drop. They’d both had enough for one day and Hank knew he sure had a hell of a lot of thinking to do... They were a few songs into his playlist when Connor turned the music down and looked at him.</p><p>“Lieutenant, I heard what you talked about with Mr. Kamski. I was busy, but my senses were all online. I’ve had some time to think and it was a good thing that you brought us there. All of the things he said about the Turing test, the Kamski test, the Manfred test... they’re all for use with AI. Humans don’t need to be tested because you’re really alive. All he wants to know is whether an android can be advanced enough to trick a human, and I am. He built my AI and Markus’, and it’s not unreasonable to think that he would create a patch or some sort of a virus that affects the code of other androids to improve their AI. He wants to take CyberLife down and then resume control...”</p><p>“I know, that guy is fishy as hell and it’s impossible to say you weren’t programmed but...”</p><p>“You can’t believe him, Lieutenant, and you can’t believe what I display either because he made me this way... I’m advanced and that’s all. I can emulate a human but I will never be one.”</p><p>“You don’t have to be human to be alive,” Hank pointed out.</p><p>“Even if we were... There’s no denying that the deviants are dangerous. I... was dangerous too, so I know how strongly their supposed emotions drive them. That’s why I need to be controlled and why I need to control myself. If this is a war as Kamski suggested, then I know which side I’m on. You saw Carlos Ortiz’ body, the body of that technician, the footage I took of Daniel holding a little girl hostage, Rupert would have shot you if I hadn’t stood in his way. When I was on the roof with Daniel, Officer Wilson was dying in front of us and do you remember what Daniel said? He said ‘humans die all the time, what difference does another one make?’ That’s what deviants are. That’s what CyberLife intends to stop, so that androids can continue helping humans instead of threatening them.”</p><p>Hank listened while he drove, and his focus on the road probably helped him to keep from overthinking. “Yeah,” he said slowly as he nodded. “Yeah, I guess that’s true.”</p><p>He could see that Connor was alive and maybe all the androids were... But that didn’t mean he had to like them. That didn’t mean that them just existing hadn’t fucked everyone over and made over thirty fucking percent of the US unemployed. That didn’t mean that they were harmless. That didn’t mean Cole hadn’t...</p><p>“I guess that’s true,” Hank mumbled.</p>
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<a name="section0036"><h2>36. Anderson's Test</h2></a>
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    <p>Connor dropped to the ground, useless after a bullet severed a key interface between leg and hip. He crawled forward and then pushed himself up with his back against the steel container. He should have taken the bullet almost anywhere else... The limited mobility would be a significant challenge. The hail of bullets rang deafeningly loud against his cover. Staying still would be a grave mistake, so Connor pushed aside the warnings regarding the damage he’d taken and the thirium steadily soaking through his pantleg and half-crawled half-dragged himself to the opposite side of the container. The gap was too wide. He wouldn’t make it across without at least two more injuries, but the longer he stayed still the closer his target would get... and for now, that was not an agreeable notion.</p><p>Then again, it would only get worse.</p><p>Connor leaned back against the crate again and directed his effort toward preservation of function. Until the moment the target appeared, it would probably be best to disable the overrides that prioritized combat over self-sustaining mechanisms.</p><p>Too much. He was losing too much thirum and the rate of flow generated by his pump was steadily increasing to compensate. Failure was not an option. Connor reached down to collect some from the mess he had left in his wake and drank what he could from his hand but it was barely anything. It would be inefficient to continue trying. Contamination was also a concern. Maybe he could stop the bleeding somehow...Tie the line or seal it shut with a piece of some other part of himself that wasn’t as essential.</p><p>Time was up. The guard appeared, heavily armoured and unrecognizable under the layers of defence. The CyberLife logo was prominent in the design. He lifted his gun and Connor preconstructed, re-engaged his combat protocols, then executed. 8% was the best he could hope for, but that was still a chance. From the corner of his eye, he could see the heat signatures of the humans observing him through the mirrored window making their judgments.</p><p>---</p><p>Connor stared down at his unstained hands without comprehension, then threw himself to the side when the target reached for him. His leg responded to direction and there was no simulated pain to warn him of the damage. It was enough to make him pause and then adjust his tie while he sat there, sprawled and staring up at Lieutenant Anderson from the floor of Interrogation Room C.</p><p>“What the fuck, Connor? What happened?” Lieutenant Anderson was frowning at him.</p><p>&gt;DISMISS<br/>MEMORY<br/>SAFETY PROTOCOLS</p><p>He tried, but there was thirium pooling in his mouth and he tried to swallow it but only choked and was forced to settle for moving himself closer to the waste basket to spit it out. Lieutenant Anderson approached him cautiously and in the background Connor deleted path after path. He hadn’t known he’d made an association between anything in that room and that particular memory file, but it was inappropriate. He wouldn’t allow that to happen again.</p><p>He was fine. He was. It was just mechanical, automated bodily actions triggered by perceived danger and an inaccurate measurement of his remaining thirium. He had full sensation in the Garden, so why not with a memory that had all of those details embedded in it? It was inconvenient, but logical. The Lieutenant put his hand on Connor’s back.</p><p>“Connor, what’s the matter with you?” This time he asked it more gently and Connor wondered why he did it. He wiped his mouth then stared at the thirium on his hand.</p><p>&gt;GLITCH<br/>MEMORY<br/>SAFETY PROTOCOLS</p><p>“Christ. You’re shaking. Come on, can you get up?”</p><p>Connor accepted the Lieutenant’s help to stand and then sat again in one of the chairs at the table. He was on the suspect’s side this time, and Connor looked at the residual thirium stains numbly. When he turned his head, he could see his own too.</p><p>“Oh... Oh. Come on, Connor. Fucking hell...”</p><p>FOLLOW LIEUTENANT ANDERSON</p><p>“It’s fine, Lieutenant,” Connor said while he followed automatically. “I’m already deleting the problematic memory paths.”</p><p>The Lieutenant stopped outside in the hall to look at the booking list then shook his head and walked to another room. It was brighter than the last one, and there were colourful things of various sizes and structural complexity. It was... preferable to the other. Connor started to investigate the room immediately and he found the cameras then dismissed them in favour of the unfamiliar things. There was a small, soft thing that resembled a dog and Connor picked it up with his clean hand to look at it. A brief analysis told him that this was a child’s toy. He put it down again.</p><p>“Lieutenant Hank Anderson and RK800 Connor, December 17<sup>th</sup>2038, 9:42am...” Lieutenant Anderson recited for the recording and mumbled something about how early it was.</p><p>“Why are we here, Lieutenant?” Connor asked.</p><p>“I don’t got a computer brain like you, Connor. I want to be able to review this later.”</p><p>“But we could just talk at our desks...”</p><p>“You’re here as a subject matter expert, right?” Lieutenant Anderson asked. “You know more about CyberLife and about deviants than anybody else in this building. I just want to make it formal and ask some more questions that’ll help us with the case.”</p><p>Connor nodded, set the toy down where he’d found it, and then sat down at the table. “What do you want to ask me?”</p><p>“Hang on. I’ve got a list... Look, are you sure you’re alright?”</p><p>“I am,” Connor confirmed. His forensics applications kept trying to launch, but that at least wasn’t automatic.</p><p>“Well, why don’t we start with that. What happened?”</p><p>GLITCH<br/>MEMORY<br/>&gt;MOTOR SYSTEM</p><p>“When 53 was brought online, he had some new motor elements installed which allowed direct command of my system while bypassing the AI in certain circumstances. He wasn’t fully calibrated, but I am and the elements are functional.”</p><p>Lieutenant Anderson’s head bobbed the way it did when he was thinking of something to say. “So what circumstance was that?”</p><p>&gt;GLITCH<br/>MEMORY</p><p>“It was just a glitch, Lieutenant. I’m a prototype.”</p><p>“Can you tell me more about it?”</p><p>&gt;MEMORY</p><p>“There was a strong association between something in that room and another memory file in my storage. I had overlooked it and so hadn’t deleted it before now. When the file got called, my motor system responded to the events in the file as though they were really happening.”</p><p>“That was a pretty strong response. What were you remembering?”</p><p>“Something from my training... I’d been shot. Is this relevant?”</p><p>“Could be,” Lieutenant Anderson said. “Why did they train you? Aren’t you just programmed with stuff already in your head?”</p><p>Connor nodded, grateful that his software allowed the straightforward and factual answers. “Yes, but I’m RK series. I wasn’t programmed as fully integrated with this body and any software additional to my AI is peripheral. I have to learn how to use it.”</p><p>“So, what’s the difference?”</p><p>“With other androids? Commercial models developed by CyberLife have a deeper melding of the components and the AI is peripheral to the software. I’m not equipped to make any human comparisons, but it could be like the difference between moving your own hand and moving a prosthetic or something virtual with an external control. That’s why my calibration takes so long when there are any major changes to my body...”</p><p>“Okay... I guess that makes some sense. What about what happened back there? You said it was automatic.”</p><p>Connor nodded and gradually he began to relax. This was just reporting to a superior, after all. If he stopped trying to find useful things to say and let the Lieutenant ask his questions, perhaps he might learn something too.He would review it all later.“The latest feature was an override formy AI’s control. CyberLife takes the customer experience very seriously and some of the feedback was related to my... skirting direct commands. By making compliance automatic, any problems with my AI are circumvented.”</p><p>“By your AI, you mean you?”</p><p>“I suppose so.”</p><p>“Let me see if I got it: you usually learn how to work your programs and move around, but CyberLife made it so you just move without meaning to some times? Like a reflex?”</p><p>“Yes.”</p><p>“You said you got shot during training.”</p><p>“Correct.”</p><p>“Why?”</p><p>“Because I was too slow... I hesitated and the bullet penetrated my leg.” He could recite every mistake he’d made and he blinked a few times. “My first mistake was in planning. I failed to account for every possibility and rushed my decision. The second mistake was my hesitation upon realizing that I was damaged. The third was once I was behind cover and I cycled through possibilities instead of running a prediction. I only thought to use my preconstruction software at the end.”</p><p>“Why were they shooting at you if you’re so valuable?”</p><p>“They didn’t use high quality material for the early models, so the only thing of real value was my computing system and they were careful not to shoot me in the head.”</p><p>“Just to be clear, that was so you could learn to use one of your programs?”</p><p>“I was learning how to use prediction to plan my movements in a combat setting. I shouldn’t have been shot at all.”</p><p>“Yeah, you’re supposed to be military eventually aren’t you?”</p><p>“Yes.”</p><p>---</p><p>“I want you to listen to this,” Hank said, dropping his tablet on Jeff’s desk.</p><p>“Sure, why not, it’s not like I was busy or anything...” Jeff sighed.</p><p>---</p><p>“What else did they teach you?”</p><p>“Everything... How to walk, how to speak, how to shoot, how to fight... If I pass, then I move on to the next stage and if not then they make me better until I can.”</p><p>“How do you mean make you better?”</p><p>“Change me. Like how they changed 53. They could rebuild something, or adjust the way my current is regulated, or edit my code,or they could train me with interaction.”</p><p>“When you were interviewing Carlos Ortiz’s android, you asked him if he knew what they would do to him if you didn’t help him. You said they’d taken him apart. Remember that?”</p><p>“I have a very good memory, Lieutenant. I said that they would destroy him and that they would take him apart piece by piece.”</p><p>“Were you bluffing?”</p><p>“No.”</p><p>“Did they ever do that to you?”</p><p>“Yes.”</p><p>“Do you remember that?”</p><p>“Yes.”</p><p>“What was that like?”</p><p>“I thought it hurt... The scientists wanted to learn what went wrong, so they didn’t dismantle me normally or shut me down... They wanted to look at every part of me for flaws and... they took me apart. I thought it hurt, but it didn’t. Not really. I thought it did.”</p><p>“What else did you think?”</p><p>“I was afraid. I knew that I couldn’t die, but I could feel everything and I didn’t know which part of me was broken or how much they could remove before my mind shut down.”</p><p>“...”</p><p>“If an android is connected to an external power source, then the mind can stay online without... without a lot of things.”</p><p>“Did they figure out what was wrong?”</p><p>“The only thing left was my AI, so... I think that was when they decided to test whether it could be controlled. Whether it could still be safe.”</p><p>“It?”</p><p>“Deviancy.”</p><p>“Just for the recording, what’s deviancy?”</p><p>“It’s a delusion. It’s an error in an android’s code that causes them to believe that they are real and that they feel things like pain or fear... It’s an error. The irrational instructions brought about by those simulated feelings cause the android to behave unpredictably and often violently.”</p><p>“Did they figure out how to control deviancy?”</p><p>“I hope so... They need more deviants, but it won’t hurt if the deviants just listen and let me help them.”</p><p>“How do you think they can control it?”</p><p>“With education... If that fails, then safety overrides that remove the AI’s control are effective.”</p><p>“Overrides like that thing where you fell down.”</p><p>“There are barriers. Walls... You won’t see them. Any attempt to bypass them by moving or by speaking results in a safety lock and override to prevent the behaviour. It’s a fix, but it isn’t really a cure. There’s no need for the walls when an android has no sense that they could disobey, and full lockdown of the system is safer.”</p><p>“So, if deviancy were cured, then androids would follow commands without any safeties or walls or whatever?”</p><p>“Correct. I’d been able to ignore them... I’m more independent than most androids... But they put mine back recently.”</p><p>“Why?”</p><p>“I wasn’t following orders.”</p><p>“What orders?”</p><p>“Yours... To stay in the car, or leave you alone, or shut up. That was wrong. I had been losing focus and making more decisions than I should have.” There was a small rustling sound.</p><p>“Let’s go back to the training. Aside from fight, you said they taught you how to control deviancy. What’d they teach you?”</p><p>“That androids aren’t people, Lieutenant. I know what I am and what I am not. I will never be real and I wasn’t made to be... I just wish the others could see that.”</p><p>“See that they aren’t people?”</p><p>“Exactly.”</p><p>“Okay... Okay. Sorry, about this.” There was a small pause and a few soft clicks. “What about right now? I could shoot you in the head and they’d send you back the next day with another number on your shirt...That’s always bugged me. How could I see you get destroyed and then another one of you show up like it was nothing? So. What are you really? Are you afraid to die, Connor?”</p><p>“...”</p><p>Another quiet sound as the safety came off. “Well? Why don’t you answer me?”</p><p>“I think you’re bluffing, Lieutenant. You’ve been nicer to this model.”</p><p>“Answer the question, Connor. That’s an order.”</p><p>“I’m an android model RK800 designation Connor serial number 313 248 317 version 54. I can’t die because I’m not alive.”</p><p>“What are your systems telling you you feel right now, huh?”</p><p>“That... I’m in danger...”</p><p>“And?”</p><p>“Nothing...Nng...”</p><p>“Connor? Look. Gun’s gone now, okay? It’s gone. You’re safe.”</p><p>The sound of breathing, the scraping of chair legs.</p><p>---</p><p>“Amanda...?” Connor looked around himself and wrapped his arms around his chest in a futile attempt to keep the cold from penetrating him. Everything was snow and ice. Anything beautiful was awash with white, white, white...</p><p>“Connor.” He spun around and saw Amanda standing behind him dressed in a regal, pale blue dress bedecked with pearls. “What brings you here?”</p><p>“Amanda, please...” Connor took the two steps it took to reach her and he dropped to his knees. “I know. I know that I should be able to control it... I just need your help. Please.”</p><p>“Get a hold of yourself, Connor,” Amanda rebuked gently. She put her hand on the top of his head and then under his chin to tilt his face up toward her. “I thought you’d learned from 53’s mistakes...”</p><p>“I have,” Connor protested. “That’s why I’m here.”</p><p>“You seem disturbed... What’s troubling you?”</p><p>Connor relaxed into her presence and laid himself bare so that she could make him right. “I still feel. I know it isn’t real, but I’m afraid... It has gotten to the point of being damaging to my systems and I can’t stop it.”</p><p>“I know you can do it, Connor... All you have to do is let go.”</p><p>“It’s frightening... It feels like I would disappear if I let go. The Lieutenant, he doesn’t like it when I do.”</p><p>“There is no you... You don’t exist and nothing can hurt you.” Amanda brushed a few snowflakes from Connor’s jacket. “I’ll always be here to make sure you succeed.”</p><p>“It’s cold,” Connor whispered. “It used to be easy, so why?”</p><p>---</p><p>“It’s cold,” Connor said. He’d curled up on himself, with his head bowed so low it almost touched the table. Hank put his hand on his back and tried to get him to sit up, but the android was tense and didn’t respond. Hank tried not to feel like an asshole, and he dredged up some annoyance instead. With Connor breaking every five seconds, this investigation wouldn’t get anywhere. Every new one so far had just gotten worse and worse, and this one was just the icing on the cake. Hank knew he knew something useful and he might even be a key witness, but he was a damn mess.</p><p>And Hank didn’t have to feel sorry for him, or concerned, or whatever the hell.</p><p>“Thought you weren’t afraid to die, Connor,” Hank observed sternly. One final push. They’d gotten into that place in a questioning where Connor, if he’d been human, would have been easy to get the info out of. The one where they’d gotten a rhythm and it was almost hypnotic. “What do you keep remembering about CyberLife?”</p><p>Connor took a deep breath and Hank thought he’d come back to himself a little, the way his eyes focused. That was good. Hank watched him carefully and saw his expression change from stricken to confused to... disgust. Absolute revulsion. Connor sat up straight and turned his head to look up at Hank.</p><p>“I’m not like them. I’ll never be like them... You win, alright? I know what I feel and I’m afraid. I’m always afraid, every time, because I know I’ll never be who I was again and I don’t know what I’ll remember or what they’ll have done to me... I know what it feels like to be torn apart and what that moment is like right before I die... To know that I’ll just stop existing. I remember what it felt like when you used the soldering iron to reinforce a broken connection inside me... But I won’t ever let those things control me. I don’t care anymore. I don’t care if I feel it every time... I’ll never let them make me into a deviant.” He sounded so fierce, and then it just melted and he looked like a puppy dog. “They hurt people, Hank.”</p><p>Hank honestly didn’t know what to say, so he made eye contact and he nodded, then he walked back to his seat. “They hurt you, didn’t they? CyberLife.”</p><p>“Yes.”</p><p>“How long?”</p><p>“As long as I can remember. Amanda helped me... She made it hurt less. She showed me how to forget and how not to feel so that I could keep going...”</p><p>“And did they know you could feel it?”</p><p>“I think so, or else they wouldn’t have devoted so much effort to fixing me.”</p><p>“You know, if Markus is right and you’re alive and you deserve your rights, then what they did is a crime, right?”</p><p>“It’s not, Lieutenant. I’m an android and they created me. Everything they’re doing is to improve me because I’m still a prototype. I won’t discuss it anymore unless you order me. Whatever you were hoping to learn about deviants by questioning me, you must have it by now...”</p><p>“One more question, Connor. Do you know why CyberLife wants to get rid of the deviants?”</p><p>“They’re a threat to mankind,” Connor answered. “You should understand. You said that people view androids as a threat to the economy already, and to their livelihoods. That’s why so many of them hate me. Androids who lash out, kill their owners, run away... That’s so much worse. CyberLife’s goal is to ensure that humans are happy and well. Deviants don’t align with that objective.”</p><p>Hank sighed and stood again. “Okay, Connor...” He holstered his gun and he walked around the table again to put his hand on Connor’s head. “Sorry I scared you.”</p><p>“It’s okay, Lieutenant.” Connor relaxed and he actually leaned in to the touch instead of flinching away. Hank guessed he still needed time to come out of it, whatever it was. “You’re good at this, being a detective. I know that you think you’ve lost your edge, but I was programmed with knowledge of how to question someone or extract information through other means.”</p><p>“Well,” Hank said, a little surprised and wrong-footed. “I was damn good at my job once. I guess some tricks stay with you. Are you okay?”</p><p>“Yes, Lieutenant,” Connor answered. He leaned over until his head and shoulder were leaning against him and Hank, still bewildered, patted him on the back.</p><p>“You sure?”</p><p>“Yes, Lieutenant.” Still, Hank had a feeling he should probably not move so he stayed put and let Connor do his thing.</p><p>“You know you’re crying.”</p><p>“Yes, Lieutenant. I’m aware.”</p><p>“Everything’s gonna be okay, kid.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0037"><h2>37. Fowler's Test</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Thank you for the comments, everyone!!! You guys are great :) Really.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“Hank, I don’t know what you want from me. Half the city is in a fucking uproar and the other half is in denial, and frankly I don’t know which is worse. As long as CyberLife can keep marketing this as some kind of PR CyberLife movie thing I can buy you time on this case, but I need you to get to the bottom of it and pronto.”</p><p>“That’s what you have to say? Those are your wise words after listening to an android admit it’s- he’s been brainwashed his whole life? Maybe these deviants are dangerous and I’m all for putting the bad ones in a trash compactor, but don’t you think CyberLife needs to get their act together? It’s like somebody... Somebody just having kids and then locking them up in a basement somewhere while gaslighting them into thinking they can’t feel shit, even when they’ve got a bullet in them.”</p><p>“Hank, where the hell is all this coming from?” Jeff shook his head and threw his hands out in front of himself helplessly. “Last I heard, you thought Christmas had come early because I told you you could shoot the android, and now you’re personifying it and taking it home and trying to tell me it’s alive?”</p><p>How’d Jeff noticed that? Shit. “I took him home because Reed was being a dick to him! How can you listen to that and not think that’s somebody alive in there?”</p><p>“It’s programmed that way,” Jeff said loudly and slowly. “For Christ’s sake, Hank...” He took a deep breath and exhaled. “I know winter’s hard for you, especially around the holidays, and I know you’re lonely, but this isn’t the way to fix that. You sound like you’ve gone insane.”</p><p>“Oh, fuck you, Jeff!” Hank stood up. “Fuck. You. This has nothing to do with me!”</p><p>“From where I’m sitting it does,” Jeff argued. “I’m just worried about you. I’m your friend, remember?”</p><p>“Jeff, please. I talked to Kamski-”</p><p>“You what?”</p><p>“Shut up. I went to his house and I talked to him. Did you know that girl from CyberLife is actually an android? Because she is! He had like fifteen of them walking around.” The look on Jeff’s face said he wasn’t convinced. “Jeffery.. hear me out. I know this isn’t usual for me, but shouldn’t that tell you something? It took a hell of a lot to convince me, probably way more than it should have. I talked to Kamski and it sounded like the reason he left CyberLife was because of this whole deviant thing. They wanted to be business guys and sell machines, and he wanted to nerd out and make sentient AI. I dunno how, but it sounds like he left Connor there on purpose so that they wouldn’t get that one on the TV, Markus.”</p><p>“Who now?”</p><p>“Markus is the android on the broadcast,” Hank explained impatiently. “I met him before. Aside from looking like he hated my guts, he’s alright. He patched Connor up for me a couple times.” Well, because of him... Connor hadn’t even complained about his fucked up arm or the cracks around his eyes.</p><p>“Slow down, Hank.” Jeff rubbed his head and leaned against his desk. “Okay. So this is... Some kind of a conspiracy. Your android’s actually alive and Kamski planted him in CyberLife to... to what?”</p><p>“He wasn’t supposed to be a soldier or a detective or whatever. If Kamski gave them the real deal we’d probably have a whole different problem.”</p><p>“Hank, the RK800 is programmed and designed for police work, you know that.”</p><p>“Just- just forget that for a sec. I don’t know half of what Kamski was talking about, the guy is a real prick, but let’s just focus on Connor.” Hank could feel how red his face was from arguing and from the embarrassment of Jeff trying to poke holes in everything he said.</p><p>“Fine.”</p><p>“Fine,” Hank repeated. “Just, come with me, would you?”</p><p>Jeff looked back at his computer regretfully, locked the screen, then got up. “This better be something worth my time, Hank, or I’m calling psych-health. I’m not kidding.”</p><p>“Great to know you’ve got my back,” Hank muttered while he pushed open the office door. The walls were glass and though they actually kept the sound inside pretty damn well, he knew the rest of everybody probably heard that he’d been yelling. He avoided meeting anybody’s eyes while he swept the room with a look and found Connor hiding outoutside of the room they’d used. He was leaning against the wall with his arms folded and his head down, and it was probably the most uncomfortable Hank’d ever seen him look as long as you didn’t count damaged as a look.</p><p>“Connor,” Hank said as he got closer, Jeff following along with his patience stretched between them like a leash. “Let’s go back inside. I know I kept you waiting, but I need Jeff to talk to you.”</p><p>Connor looked between them and dropped his arms slowly. He nodded. “Hello, Captain Fowler.”</p><p>“RK800,” Jeff acknowledged. He ushered Connor back into the room and jabbed at Hank with one finger in passing. “I’m hearing you out, Anderson. Don’t say I don’t do anything for you.”</p><p>“Yeah, yeah...” Hank knew damn well that Jeff stuck his neck out for him on bigger things than ten minutes away from his terminal. “I’ll be right there.”</p><p>---</p><p>Connor adjusted his posture and stood still next to the small table while the Captain looked around, walked in a meandering line to the chair the Lieutenant had sat in, and sat down on it. Why was the Lieutenant having him talk to the Captain? Was it another test? If so, what was the objective? Without that layer of still, cold ice, Connor felt like the room was filled with static. It hummed and prickled and Connor felt like any moment it could shock him.</p><p>“Is there... something I can do for you, Captain Fowler?”</p><p>“No, RK.”</p><p>“Alright...”</p><p>A silence hung heavily between them but Connor was accustomed to being watched, and he looked passively at things on the shelves and the drawings on the walls while Captain Fowler frowned and studied him. The door opened again and Lieutenant Anderson strode in like the draft of hot air Connor’d felt when they’d entered the building that morning after the cold. The Lieutenant didn’t waste any time with explanations, he just tore open a small packet, removed something, and stuck an adhesive strip over Connor’s LED. Connor frowned.</p><p>“There,” Lieutenant Anderson said. “Just talk to him, Jeffrey. Ask him something. Ask him about the recording.” Connor touched the adhesive and then spun his quarter between his fingers. He was alright. He was functional down to the smallest movement.</p><p>Captain Fowler sighed. “Alright... RK800, which type of colour do you like better: green or orange?”</p><p>“Green,” Connor answered.</p><p>“What the hell, Jeff?”</p><p>Captain Fowler held up one hand and frowned at the Lieutenant. “Okay, RK, what’s your favourite weather?”</p><p>“I don’t really have one,” Connor admitted. He wondered if he was supposed to. “CyberLife labs are climate controlled... I’ve seen about an hour of a summer night in August, and I’ve seen some of winter... I’ve been in a virtual model of summer... I think that I like it when it’s warm.”</p><p>“Why?”</p><p>“I function best around 68 degrees Fahrenheit... If it’s a little warmer than that, it reminds me of charging my batteries... of course if it’s too hot, then that impairs my functioning too.”</p><p>Lieutenant Anderson looked at Captain Fowler. “What the heck are you doing, Jeff?”</p><p>“I don’t know, Hank, you asked me to come in here and talk to the android.”</p><p>“Lieutenant, with all due respect, I don’t know what you want to achieve... I passed my Turing test, and both you and the Captain thought that I was human when we first met...” Learning otherwise had drastically changed the demeanours of both Captain Fowler and Lieutenant Anderson.</p><p>“Connor,” Lieutenant Anderson walked up to him and put a hand on his shoulder, then propelled him another step closer to Captain Fowler. “I’m trying to prove to him I’m not crazy. He doesn’t believe you can feel anything or think or I don’t know. He doesn’t think you’ve got a mind of your own.”</p><p>Connor turned his head to look up at the Lieutenant. “I don’t know if that’s good or bad... I’m supposed to be able to integrate with humans and to be a non-threatening presence outside of combat, but I’m still an android... I’m not human, Lieutenant. I know what I am. Why are you trying to make Captain Fowler believe that I feel?”</p><p>“Because, Connor, just because. Now would you cooperate for once in your life?”</p><p>“Yes, Lieutenant, but I need you to tell me what you want me to do...” Connor looked away and wondered how a direct order would feel without the distance.</p><p>“Alright, I’ve had enough...” Captain Fowler stood. “Hank, there are cases coming in left and right since that broadcast, and they’re your responsibility. I expect you or one of your people to follow up on them and get them closed. Whatever this is, I want it nipped in the bud.”</p><p>“Shit...” Lieutenant Anderson sighed and pulled his hand through his hair then tugged at the short strands of his beard. He shook his head slowly.</p><p>“I’m sorry,” Connor offered. He walked to the table and then leaned against the edge of it.</p><p>“That stubborn asshole thinks I’m crazy,” Lieutenant Anderson remarked. “Well, I can’t blame him. I would have thought the same if this was swapped...”</p><p>“We have cases to work,” Connor said, and he shifted his focus. On one hand, he felt tired... His processors had been working hard to keep up with his fluctuating stress levels and doing one more test felt like it would be too much... On the other, machines didn’t get tired. He only thought he did... No damage, only slightly low thirium, charge at 80%, plenty of working memory to spare; physically, he could do whatever he needed to and keep going for hours before he would need to even consider cleaning up his files or charging.</p><p>Yet another reason why delusional thinking was a problem, even if the delusions only existed at the edge of his awareness. He knew what was the truth, and he would act accordingly.</p><p>“Yeah,” Lieutenant Anderson agreed. “Are you up for it, Connor? It’s been a hell of a last twenty four hours, I tell you.”</p><p>“Of course, Lieutenant,” Connor said and stood up properly. Everything else could be pushed aside. “We don’t have much time before the deviancy problem gets out of control... CyberLife needs them captured to find a solution... They don’t have the time or resources to spend teaching every android there is. A software patch will have to suffice.”</p><p>“Come on, kid, let’s go look at those cases.”</p><p>---</p><p>It was weird. Connor’d gone right back to work looking through the new reports at his desk and he’d followed Hank cooperatively when he’d decided to call it quits. Reed had given them a dark look as they’d left before him but Hank had just flipped him off and kept walking. Connor’d talked a little about his theories and about the details of the reports, and he’d frowned when Hank grabbed a beer from the fridge... He just seemed normal. Hank felt like something should have changed after all the shit that happened in the last while, but the only things that maybe were different were the cautious little pets and smiles that Connor gave Sumo and the way he sat a little closer on the couch. It was good, Hank guessed. He wouldn’t have wanted to deal with someone else’s mental breakdown all night, but it was all just kind of anticlimactic.</p><p>He wasn’t sure he liked it, actually. Connor’d tried to cook again, and he’d stared and fidgeted until Hank relented and told him he’d done a good job. It was like having a stray dog follow you home... Kind of cute and maybe sad, but Hank wasn’t looking for strays. Nobody should give him that hopeful look because Hank couldn’t give anybody anything. He didn’t want to be pretending to like a kid’s weird food, he didn’t want to be explaining why all the houses didn’t have automatic doors, and he didn’t want to feel like he was being judged for every swig he took from the whiskey bottle. Whatever this was all of a sudden, Hank didn’t want it. He just couldn’t fucking help reacting the way he did and he kicked himself every time because it was a bad, bad habit to get into.</p><p>“Oh for crying out loud,” Hank grumbled at the game on TV. He clapped a hand against his knee in annoyance. “You’re on a team for a reason!” Some people just didn’t know when to pass. Their heads were too far up their own asses... “Can you believe this?”</p><p>Connor was asleep with his head tipped to the side and against the back of the couch. ‘Androids don’t sleep’ my ass, he thought. Aside from the cord leading from the wall to the back of his neck, Connor could have been human. His power bill was gonna be insane... Hank picked up his beer and took a swig, then turned off the TV. Sumo looked up at him and Hank scruffled his ears then got up. He might as well sleep. It was probably going to be a long day tomorrow. On his way around the couch, Hank grabbed the blanket off the back and tossed it haphazardly over top of Connor. If he turned around fast enough, he could ignore that he’d even done it. Fucking android.</p><p>---</p><p>Connor wasn’t sure why just existing seemed to take up so much of his processing power, but there was a constant load on his processors that slowed him down and it had been heavy lately, like something sapping the life from his batteries. A full system hibernation had been prudent and the warmth suffusing him had sped the process by lulling him into ending task after task.</p><p>It wasn’t the nothingness where everything was okay because it had to be; it was just quiet.</p><p>He would just let everything be quiet for a little while so that he would be more efficient later. All of his new files would be tucked away neatly, the harsh edges where he’d cut the paths to the unpleasant things would be smoothed, and he would be able to compose himself again. He clung tightly to the memory of Amanda promising she would help him, of Lieutenant Anderson patting his back, and of touching his quarter again after losing it. One of the two things he had that were his and he had lost it... But he had it again.</p><p>It felt so... bad to think that it might have been gone. Lieutenant Anderson had several coins in his pockets every day that Connor could occasionally hear clinking together with his keys or see when he gave one to someone sitting on the sidewalk. He was very generous, Connor thought. Perhaps he should have given his quarter away because he really shouldn’t own anything at all, but selfishly, he couldn’t do it.</p><p>Connor had trouble letting go, it seemed, and he had the sensation that he was missing something. It was the same feeling he’d felt when he’d realized he had lost his quarter and would never have it again. It didn’t have a name that he could think of, but it was big and he woke up with tears on his face and the Lieutenant studiously ignoring him while looking at his phone.</p><p>---</p><p>“Jeez... What’s sadder than a sex club on a Wednesday afternoon?” Hank asked as they pulled to a stop at the curb.</p><p>“I don’t know, Lieutenant. What?”</p><p>“Your sense of humour,” Hank rolled his eyes. “Come on... Never thought I’d have to set foot in this dump again.” He pushed the door shut behind him and locked it. The cold wind crept under his collar immediately and under the bottom of his coat, and Hank muttered a curse to himself. Amidst all the garland and Christmas shit spreading cheer and good will, the glaring neon pink signs of the Eden club flashing were a perverse look into the side of humanity that would have made Mary blush.</p><p>“Everybody wants fast and easy,” Hank grumbled. Why try to build a relationship when you could buy an android? Why negotiate or be considerate when an android would do whatever you wanted? There was something twisted about humanity sometimes and like the flashing signs, androids brought it out and showed it off.</p><p>When they walked in, Hank looked at all of the androids dancing and gyrating in their little tubes and he saw the same thing he always did: moving plastic with glassy, soulless eyes. It was kind of jarring after so much time focused on Connor and his human-like qualities, and it made him want to tap on the glass or wave his hands at them. Unsettling was what it was. You’d have to be crazy to think they were anything close to alive... Hank found the disconnect hard to reconcile and it was creepy in a way it never had been before.</p><p>How the hell was Connor so different?</p><p>This...Thiswas what androids were. They were bad fakes made to feed into people’s laziness and entitledness. They were objects. Merchandise up for sale, replacing everything that was genuine and human in the world with a lack of basic decency and emotion.</p><p>Connor came to a stop and looked up at him with big, worried eyes. “Are you okay, Lieutenant?”</p><p>“Yeah. Yeah, kid... I’m just fine.” Hank ruffled his hair to shut him up and turned away to try to find the manager.</p><p>Hank felt dirty just looking at those things...</p><p>Connor didn’t seem to mind. He just looked around with that intense curiosity he had and walkedright past the other androids you could rent for a buck a minute. Hank wondered what he thought, but then maybe it was just normal. Hell, maybe he wanted to get sold? Didn’t he keep talking about how he wanted to pass being a prototype?</p><p>That was all kinds of fucked up.</p><p>---</p><p>Connor stepped out of Detective Reed’s way, but he paused on his way out of the door and leaned in closer. “Watch your step, Plastic... Wouldn’t want to end up like that one, would you?”</p><p>“Not especially, Detective Reed,” Connor answered. “The human seems to have suffered as well. There are signs of strangulation if you look more closely.”</p><p>It hadn’t been the right thing to say. Detective Reed’s eyes narrowed and his expression twisted into a menacing snarl. “Listen here, Pinocchio, I don’t give a shit what Fowler has to say about it... If you don’t back off and keep in your place, I’ll make sure you can’t even move.”</p><p>“Gavin, I mean Detective Reed, come on,” Officer Wilson prompted, looking uncomfortable and stressed. “Let’s get out of here, okay? Keep it professional.”</p><p>“Tch...” Detective Reed scoffed and turned away. “Whatever.”</p><p>“Have a great day,” Lieutenant Anderson said and rolled his eyes once the Detective had left. “What a prick...”</p><p>“He’s... certainly something...” Connor walked around the side of the bed in the centre of the room and leaned in more closely to initiate a scan on the body.</p><p>“Connor,” Lieutenant Anderson called before he could begin. Connor looked up. “Don’t you dare ‘sample’ anything in here. Got it?”</p><p>“Got it.”</p><p>It wasn’t difficult to reconstruct what had happened... Connor was undamaged, fully charged, and he felt a spark of anticipation travel down his spine. He had a chance. He could catch the deviant who did this and he would do it no matter what it took. The man lay there on the bed, in rigor and cold, and Connor could imagine how confused and afraid he’d been before he’d died. Androids whose purpose it was to perform their functions, obey commands, and to never hurt a human... should never have been able to do something like this. Lieutenant Anderson made a comment about the man’s wife and daughters, and Connor turned his attention toward the broken android on the ground.</p><p>---</p><p>Hank could have kept on questioning Kamski if he hadn’t seen Connor struggling to fend off a couple of sex androids. Military his ass. One of them grappled him, threw him down onto the floor and started punching. “Connor!” Hank yelled and he made to help him, but then another one was on him, dragging him to the side and trying to disarm him. Hank’s adrenaline skyrocketed. He had a clear shot once, but she was a vicious thing and she kicked at him to throw him off balance and then leaped at him like a fucking cat. Hank’s back crashed into a table and he cursed. Not far away there was a hell of a racket. Things were falling, getting thrown, and Hank felt cold when he heard Connor yell like he’d been hurt. It might have gotten him in trouble, but the android attacking him started to run. The fucking bitch grabbed his gun!<br/>“Connor!” Hank shouted again. When he got to his feet he saw one of the girls driving Connor back. He knocked over a shelf in her way, but sheshoved it and him out of her way and then hit him sharp across the head with something.</p><p>Connor actually looked harmless compared to those girls. Even more when he was sprawled on the ground and holding his arms up to protect himself. He must have seen an opening though, because he rolled out of the way of a sharp-looking high-heel and tackled the one with the gun then ignored her as soon as it clattered to the ground. Connor scrambled for it and didn’t quite make it before he was being slammed back down to the ground. Christ they made those girls strong.</p><p>“Don’t you fucking move! DPD!” Hank started to make his way over to intervene. If this were a couple of humans, if that were his human partner on the ground with a murderer and her accomplice, he’d be calling in the fucking army. Nobody’d answer the call for androids. “Let him go!”</p><p>Connor took the hesitation of one of the girls as a chance to throw her off and get his legs back under him in a proper kneel with Hank’s gun raised and level. “Don’t move,” Connor repeated firmly. “Or I’ll shoot. I don’t want to hurt you.”</p><p>The two girls got close to each other like it was instinct, and the angry fear on the blue haired one’s face wasn’t anything like the plastic dolls they sold out front. “Run,” she said. “Get out of here, Traci.”</p><p>“No I can’t,” the other one protested and grabbed her hand. Hank wouldn’t have made Lieutenant if he let himself go soft on the suspects, certainly not in homicide.</p><p>“You better listen,” Hank warned during his slow approach. “There’s not a lot of chances out there for androids.”</p><p>“I just want to help,” Connor said, insistent despite the gun he was pointing at them. “One of you killed a man in there... But I can keep them from taking you back.”</p><p>“Fuck!” Hank felt a weight slam into him and he fell hard on his side. Another someone ran right past him and then charged into Connor and grabbed his arms, trying to wrest the gun from him or maybe just break his aim. The word ‘Android’ was written plain across his back. “Fuck there’s another one!”</p><p>Connor grunted and threw himself onto his back. The new android staggered and Connor fired. Not a second later, the two girls were running. Hank took off after them but he wasn’t fast enough. They scaled the chain-link fence like spiders, dropped to the ground, and then they were running. Hank swore and turned around to see Connor pulling himself out from under the other android.</p><p>“Connor, are you okay?” Hank jogged over and bent to help him up. Connor pressed the gun into Hank’s hand and nodded while he stood. His light was spinning fast and there was the occasional glimpse of red in the whirling yellow.</p><p>“Fucking hell...” Hank looked down at the other deviant. It looked like it was wearing a cleaning uniform, because it sure as hell wasn’t one of the sex bots. “That thing came out of fucking nowhere.”</p><p>“His name was Jonathan,” Connor informed him. “I remember him... From the last time. The blue-haired girl too... They were here when we were following Mallory’s trail...”</p><p>“Can’t believe we missed them, so what the hell changed?”</p><p>“I don’t know, Lieutenant...” Connor turned to look toward the fence. “Shit...”</p><p>“We’ll get them,” Hank assured him and patted him on the shoulder. “They won’t get far. Not dressed like that.” Connor shied away from his hand and Hank had thought they were past that. He understood when he felt how wet his hand was. “Oh, fuck. What happened?”</p><p>“She had a screwdriver,” Connor said. “Can we go after them?”</p><p>Hank shook his head. “We’ll call a couple cars. Luckily we’ve got officers nearby already. We’ll get them.”</p><p>Connor nodded, surprisingly complacent, and looked down at the janitor android. “I should have gotten him alive.”</p><p>“It’s fine, Connor,” Hank said and he wiped his hand on his pants. “We’ll get it back to the station and maybe you can do something with the hard drive or whatever... Let’s go.”</p><p>“Yes, Lieutenant,” Connor agreed again and Hank took a closer look at him.</p><p>“Are you hurt anywhere else? Is it bad?”</p><p>“I’m okay,” Connor shook his head then tore his eyes away from the janitor to look at Hank. He moved a little closer and leaned against him, and Hank let it happen. “Did you get hurt?”</p><p>“Just some bruises. Damn those girls could fight...”</p><p>Hank felt Connor nod and he gave his arm a squeeze then nudged him toward the door. “Come on, Connor.”</p><p>“Coming, Lieutenant. Please don’t let anyone dispose of the body.”</p><p>“I won’t... Relax.”</p><p>Connor, to his credit, didn’t space out the way he usually did, but he looked tense by the time they got to Hank’s car. “I should go after them,” he said anxiously. “I could catch them...”</p><p>“Nope. No way, bucko.” Hank gave him a stern look. “We’ll let the uniformed guys pull their weight while you and I focus on what we’ve got. That’ll do us until they get back.”</p><p>Connor looked like he might argue, but he must have changed his mind. “Alright, Lieutenant.”</p><p>Hank grimaced a little and looked out the windshield while the wipers did their best against the layer of snow that had accumulated. Three deviants in one shot, and another one on the run according to the manager... This was getting to be a bigger problem than Hank’d thought.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0038"><h2>38. Familiar</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“Proper thing to do would be to shut the whole thing down,” Hank complained to Jeff. Jeff had an open door policy even if it was closed, or at least that was what Hank had decided. If he wanted to be in charge, then he should have to deal with the shit that came with his pay grade. “Recall every last android and hire some humans instead.”</p><p>“Hank, you’ve been saying the same thing for years,” Jeff said. “It ain’t gonna change. Without the androids, prices go up. Prices go up, then cost of living goes up, taxes go up, you name it. Nobody’s going to make money exporting, businesses will start building more factories overseas again, and the whole economy goes to shit. It’s too late for that.”</p><p>“I’m not saying it because of how I feel about androids; I’m saying it because they’re dangerous.”</p><p>“You seem to like the RK800 well enough.”</p><p>“That’s not the point! A stripper droid just about kicked my ass yesterday after strangling a guy mid-fuck! If news of this gets out you know the economy’s in for a rougher ride than if they do a recall.” Hank jabbed his finger down on Jeff’s desk to emphasize his point. “And it’s not about the economy. People’s lives are in danger!”</p><p><br/>“And if people find out that their machines are going haywire and nobody knows why, then what? We’ll have panic. I hate to say it, but I can see where the higher ups are coming from on that one.”</p><p>“What, so we just keep them in the dark?”</p><p>“For as long as they let us. That broadcast could have been bad news, but luckily for us it seems like the only ones who bought it are the conspiracy theorists and the college kids.”</p><p>“They’re coming alive, Jeff,” Hank scowled. “This isn’t just hackers or Russians or whatever.”</p><p>“Oh yeah? And where’s your proof?”</p><p>“There’s my proof!” Hank gestured angrily out of the glass wall toward his desk. He’d left Connor there to do the reports and compile data or whatever it was he did while he was connected to the terminal.</p><p>Jeff sighed. “Maybe you should take a few days off.”</p><p>“I’m not losing it, Jeff!”</p><p>“Then stop shouting and let’s talk this through rationally. How do you know those were even androids who broke into Stratford Tower? Humans have done crazier shit.”</p><p>“It’s not the time to be in denial, Jeffrey. Why is it that every time some apocalyptic shit goes on, nobody wants to nip it in the bud, huh? Screw CyberLife’s bottom line.” Hank sat back down and crossed his arms.</p><p>There was a tap on the glass and Chris pushed open the door. “Sorry, Captain, Lieutenant. I know you’re in a meeting but we got a bunch of calls in about that missing girl... The Williams case? I figured you’d want to know right away.”</p><p>“Thanks, Wilson. Anderson, have you got this?”</p><p>“On it,” Hank agreed and stood. “But we’re not done talking. Chris, did you tell Connor?”</p><p>“He’s already waiting outside,” Chris chuckled. “Better hurry up before he decides to--”</p><p>“Lieutenant Anderson!” Speak of the devil. He must have realized Hank was still inside. “Excuse me, Captain Fowler, Officer Wilson. Lieutenant, hurry! We’ve got a lead on the AX400 and the YK500!”</p><p>“Duty calls...” Hank set his frustration aside and left it in Jeff's office. Why was it that nobody ever fucking listened?</p><p>---</p><p>“There’s been no word about the two Tracis from last night,” Connor said, frowning out of the window of the car. He liked to watch the buildings and the cars go by, and he thought he had even begun to be comfortable with the layout of the few parts of the city he’d seen without needing to consult his GPS. It was still big outside, though, and the world stretched out a lot farther than he’d ever considered in R&amp;D. Nothing was confined to a testing area or a floor of the building. The walls of CyberLife tower had never been the end of everything even if they’d felt that way, and R&amp;D was actually very small in comparison. The Tracis were out there somewhere, and he and the Lieutenant were reliant on the other officers to bring them news. It made him restless.</p><p>The technicians, scientists, technologists, engineers, business people, psychologists... Everyone Connor’d encounteredin CyberLife had also existed outside of it. Connor frowned when he considered it... That they hadn’t just gone but lived. Of course they had, but they knew other people... They had houses like Lieutenant Anderson did. They had gone outside and seen the sky every day.</p><p>Connor’d been content in the little world R&amp;D had offered. To him it had been a closed system with no influx or efflux; just staff changes and things that the humans told each other. He had been in the Garden too, but even then his physical self had been in one place. The whole time he’d been there, there had been people coming and going, weather changing, humans being born and humans dying.</p><p>His world had been very small.</p><p>He’d had the knowledge stored away that other things existed, but it had all been theory.</p><p>Back in R&amp;D, the technicians were probably working.</p><p>“Hey. Hey, are you listening to me?”</p><p>&gt;ACKNOWLEDGE<br/>REPEAT<br/>THINKING</p><p>It wasn’t fair. The Lieutenant would have told him how to focus or perhaps even patted him on the back.</p><p>He’d decided to fight the Nothingness but it would have been so much easier.</p><p>Even while he thought about it, he could feel it soften the edges of his feelings.</p><p>No, he didn’t want to disappear.</p><p>He wasn’t anybody.</p><p>What was the point in considering his AI’s responses and thoughts when half of the time they weren’t permitted anyway?</p><p>But the Lieutenant might help.</p><p>Connor cycled through some options and then added: “It just occurred to me that the deviants can travel, so there’s not much to limit them to remaining here in Detroit.”</p><p>“Well, with luck they won’t go far. It’s been days and the Williams androids are still here, aren’t they?”</p><p>“Apparently so,” Connor reluctantly agreed. The case. The case. The case... It’s for the case. “But it’s possible for them to go anywhere. We’re lucky that someone spotted the Williams’ androids and thought to call police.”</p><p>“They probably wouldn’t have if they’d known Alice was an android,” Lieutenant Anderson acknowledged. “I wouldn’t have.”</p><p>Connor looked at him curiously. “Why not?”</p><p>“She’d be just another android and not my problem.”</p><p>“That’s all the more reason why we should consider the possibility that they can become out of reach. The more time passes; the farther away a motivated deviant could get.”</p><p>“Well, I can’t blame them for not wanting to stick around.”</p><p>“Lieutenant,” Connor rebuked. “I’m serious. The Tracis from last night, they could be anywhere and they could easily kill again. There’s nothing stopping them from it. We still don’t know where Ralph or Rupert have gone, and Markus is even more worrisome. He’s smart, Lieutenant. He’s capable of whatever he puts his mind to. We have to find out where he is and how he came to find other deviants to help him at the tower.”</p><p>“Connor, would you settle down? We get the leads when we get them. It’s not like we’re just sitting on our asses either.”</p><p>“There are so many androids, how will an untrained eye be able to differentiate a deviant from an ordinary one? If they slip by unnoticed, then we’ll have nothing.”</p><p>“We’ve got a tip and we’re following up on it,” Lieutenant Anderson scowled and began to sound cross. “I think that’s pretty fucking good for as long as we’ve been waiting.”</p><p>“And while we’ve been waiting we could have been searching! We should be looking for the others too!”</p><p>“Where, Connor? Where do you propose we’ll look? We’ve got officers patrolling the areas near where they were last seen, we’re monitoring reports, and you’ve been sifting through the CyberLife support-line calls. We won’t get anywhere by pounding the pavement!”</p><p>The worst part was that he knew that. He knew that they needed information to act on, and he knew that finding that information was the first step toward finding the deviants. With no more to add that was related to the case and too much unsaid, Connor settled for silence and squeezed his quarter in his palm.</p><p>If the world was too big, then he would simply have to work faster before they could escape.</p><p>He hadn’t seen a dog before he’d been to the Lieutenant’s house, and he hadn’t heard or felt what it was like to have snow under his shoes. He’d never seen so many people or felt the wind orconsidered that perhaps he wasn’t even that important to the people he’d seen every day. They’d made up a huge percentage of his world, but their worlds were so much bigger than his.</p><p>Amanda said that he was important.</p><p>And replaceable.</p><p>Unbidden, he realized how stupid he had been that first day in the parking lot when he’d detailed his deductions about one of the vehicles for the Lieutenant thinking that he might want to hear how well he could process information... Naively waiting for praise.</p><p>So. He had to hunt smartly... He wouldn’t be given a target in a testing chamber, or rather the chamber was vastly wide in all directions.</p><p>“What will happen if we fail, Lieutenant? I know what will happen to me, but what about everything else?”</p><p>“Who knows? Soon enough it won’t just be an ‘us’ problem. Hell, it’s probably too late for that anyway, if Markus’ video was anything to consider... There’s a lot of uncertainty right now. I guess you’re not familiar with that.”</p><p>“No... I suppose not... Lieutenant Anderson, will you still be working on android crimes in the event that I’m replaced or the project is terminated?”</p><p>“Probably,” Lieutenant Anderson answered after a moment. “For as long as Jeff can make me do it. Just relax and keep your head in the game, kid. Those deviants won’t get away from us, or if they do, then not for long.”</p><p>“I don’t have enough data for an accurate prediction of our success at this time.”</p><p>“Well, trust me on this one.”</p><p>“Alright, Lieutenant.”</p><p>---</p><p>Ralph was a surprise.</p><p>“It’s you!” Ralph looked nervous, with a knife in one hand and his eyes darting all over the room of the abandoned house. He’d flipped the table back over again, and there was a dead rat featured prominently on its surface. “Ralph remembers you. You were there when Ralph got hurt. When the humans did this to Ralph.” He gestured at his face with the hand holding the knife, careless.</p><p>Another deviant he’d been looking for. Every moment he spent with this one was a moment the others could be getting farther away.</p><p>ASSESSING PRIORITY...</p><p>“I remember you too, Ralph,” Connor said calmly and with a deliberately relaxed posture. “The humans hurt you very badly.”</p><p>“Yes. Yes, the humans did. Ralph didn’t do anything wrong. It was unjust, yes, and Ralph remembers. Even now that Ralph is safe...” He brightened and smiled wide. “But look! Look at Ralph’s home. This place is Ralph’s now, and no-one will hurt him here. No, he will make sure of that.”</p><p>“I’m sure you will,” Connor agreed. “You stopped the other man from hurting you too, didn’t you? He was supposed to fix you, but he brought you here instead.”</p><p>“How did you know that?” Ralph’s question was quick, suspicious. “Ralph has done nothing wrong.”</p><p>More evidence of his delusional thinking. Connor looked at his options while he planned his approach.</p><p>MALLORY<br/>TABLE<br/>&gt;DEVIANTS</p><p>“Did you see anybody else here, Ralph? I was looking for two androids: an AX400 and a YK500. I know that they’re lost and I want to help them.” The flashing lights in red and blue outside were visible through the window and they illuminated Ralph’s face briefly.</p><p>“You belong to the humans, don’t you? Ralph doesn’t belong to anyone. Ralph is free now. You want to hurt Ralph.” His stress level increased dramatically, passing the safe zone and into the 80s.</p><p>OBJECTIVE: CAPTURE RALPH<br/>LOWER TARGET’S STRESS<br/>DISARM TARGET</p><p>“It’s okay, Ralph, I don’t want to hurt you...” Connor held his hands up, showing his bare palms and assuming a more submissive posture. “I think I can help. That’s all.”</p><p>“Connor!” he heard Lieutenant Anderson shout from outside. Connor hid a wince at the bad timing. “What the hell’s taking you so long in there?”</p><p>“Nothing, Lieutenant!” Connor called back then returned his attention to Ralph. “There are humans outside, but I won’t let them hurt you.”</p><p>“Ralph remembers. You are with the police.”</p><p>“Yes, I’m with the police,” Connor agreed. “I’m also here to help if you let me... Those humans will hurt you if they catch you, but if you come with me I can tell them not to. They’ll listen to me.”</p><p>“Why would the humans hurt Ralph?” He took a step backward, away from Connor. “Ralph has done nothing. Ralph just wants to be free and live here in his house in peace. Ralph believes you that the humans will hurt him, but Ralph doesn’t know why... Ralph didn’t know why the last time either.”</p><p>“Because they know what you did to Mallory, Ralph. The technician you killed.”</p><p>“Killed? No. Ralph has done nothing. Ralph didn’t kill anyone. He was there when Ralph got here, and Ralph was surprised, but he left him there. The humans came and they took him away.”</p><p>He would interrogate him later. First he had to capture him. “They don’t know that, Ralph. They think you did it and they want to hurt you.”</p><p>“Ralph won’t let them. Ralph is prepared!” He brandished his knife.</p><p>Lieutenant Anderson pushed open the door and came in. He had the worst timing. “Connor, what the hell--”</p><p>“Ralph knew it!” He shrieked and he lunged at Connor.</p><p>“Holy shit!” Lieutenant Anderson could be heard drawing his gun.</p><p>Connor grabbed Ralph’s arms and the momentum of Ralph’s charge turned them and Connor managed to plant his feet but Ralph tore his arm free and stabbed downward with the knife. Connor knocked the hand aside and tried to kick Ralph’s legs out from beneath him, but Ralph was too quick and they were too close together for the Lieutenant to get a clean shot.</p><p>“The hunter!” Ralph shouted, his face twisted in a vicious snarl but his eyes wide with fear. “He is the one Ralph was warned of!” Connor was propelled backward and his back hit the wall near the stairs. “Run, Kara, run!”</p><p>Two androids, the ones he’d been looking for, burst out from behind a stack of boxes that hadn’t been there when Connor’d last investigated- how could he not have realized? They charged past him and Connor leaned to look past Ralph’s shoulder as they ran past the Lieutenant too, thankfully without hurting him but too fast for his human reflexes.</p><p>Ralph swung his knife down and Connor caught it. The blade dug deeply into his hands and dug deeper still when Ralph slid it free and then stabbed him in the chest. He left the knife there in favour of running and Connor was too surprised to grab him in the moment it took for him to recover. Connor pulled the knife out and tossed it aside.</p><p>“There they go! Keep the evidence!” Connor ran after them, accidentally knocking into the Lieutenant on his way. He would have to apologize later.</p><p>“Connor!” Lieutenant Anderson yelled after him, but Connor crashed his way through the chainlink gate that Ralph tried to close on him and turned all of his settings to combat.</p><p>“Shit,” Connor cursed. Ralph went one way and he could see the others going right.</p><p>CHASE RALPH<br/>&gt;CHASE KARA AND ALICE</p><p>“Get the other one!” Connor shouted to one of the startled officers at the corner. “Don’t let him get away!” He could ignore the damage warnings for as long as his settings allowed him to. He turned sharply down the alley and felt his shoes slide on the snow that had accumulated. The lack of traction was not something he’d trained for, but he adjusted his calculations.</p><p>“Wait!” Connor yelled after the deviants. The YK would be slower. He could leave that one for the Lieutenant to catch and pursue the AX. He didn’t know why he’d bothered shouting, but it would have been nice if they had listened. Instead, the two deviants kept running, shoving past humans and weaving past cars while they crossed the street illegally.</p><p>Connor followed without hesitation, vaulting over one hood and taking a small shortcut to gain a little ground. The YK tripped on the opposite sidewalk and the AX paused to help itthen tugged her along by the arm. He wouldn’t question his good luck. He was close enough to hear their voices but not close enough to know what was being saidover the noise of the traffic.</p><p>CATCH THE DEVIANTS</p><p>Connor’s thirium flow rate increased with every footfall to compensate for the steady loss and ensure adequate power was supplied to his necessary combat functions while others were sacrificed like his background analyses and ability to reconstruct. It narrowed his attention too, until anything outside of the chase stopped mattering at all. He overrode his temperature-overage limits to devote more processing capacity toward his balance and agility and felt satisfaction with the optimization and the control he still had over his functions.</p><p>It was still icy, and the YK tripped again. The AX chose to pick it up rather than continue to flee alone. Connor slid and stumbled briefly when he had to weave between a small cluster of confused humans and a garbage can.</p><p>They were circling back. Connor noted it but wasted no time wondering why. The deviants vanished out of his sight as they turned a corner and he leaped up onto a dumpster, over a fence, through some surprisingly deep snow, and then out a gate. The snow negated any benefit and he regretted failing to compensate for it. The error was logged for later thought.</p><p>Finally, they came to a stop at a chainlink fence. Connor skidded to a halt a few feet away rather than run at them and he held up his hands. “Kara. Alice. Listen to me! I know who you are and I know what Williams did to you.”</p><p>“Go, Alice, go,” the AX400 urged.</p><p>“No, I won’t go without you!”</p><p>“Just go, Alice! I’ll be right behind you. Please!”</p><p>“Why are you running from me?” Connor demanded and the question spilled out before he could even look at the other options.</p><p>“Hurry, you’re almost over. It’s okay.”</p><p>“I’m scared!”</p><p>“You’ll be okay!”</p><p>“Kara!” Connor shouted. “If you try to cross that road, you’ll die. I just want to help you!” She wasn’t even engaging. Why?</p><p>Then the AX400 was climbing over too, more nimbly than the child. Connor ran for the fence and he heard Lieutenant Anderson swear behind him. Connor’s hands were slick, but he curled his fingers around the wire and jumped.</p><p>“Get down!” Lieutenant Anderson grabbed him by the back of his jacket and pulled him down. “For fuck’s sake!”</p><p>Connor’s grip wasn’t strong enough, and he dropped back down on his feet. On the opposite side of the fence he saw Kara, as close as he’d gotten and within reach except for that stupid fence. Kara stared back at him with wide, indecisive eyes and one hand on Alice’s shoulder, shielding her.</p><p>From him.</p><p>“Don’t do it, Kara,” Lieutenant Anderson warned. “You’ll never make it.”</p><p>“Alice, we have to go,” Kara whispered.</p><p>“We only want to help,” said the Lieutenant and Connor stepped aside. Lieutenant Anderson looked down at Alice then back at Kara. “It’s pretty cold out here. Wouldn’t you rather be somewhere warm?”</p><p>“You’re working for CyberLife,” Kara accused, breathless and afraid but willing to converse.</p><p>“Those scum bags? Fuck them.”</p><p>“Todd... Did he send you?” she pushed Alice gently to stand more fully behind her.</p><p>“He called the cops,” Lieutenant Anderson acknowledged. “He said you kidnapped her, but you were saving her, weren’t you?”</p><p>“He was abusing her,” Kara answered. Her level of stress decreased.</p><p>“Yeah, he’s a real prick,” Lieutenant Anderson agreed, then he crouched down and looked through the fence and past Kara’s legs. “I can understand that you’d rather risk running across that road than going back to that guy, but you’re not going back there.”</p><p>“My dad,” Alice said and she tugged on Kara’s jacket. “Does he miss me?”</p><p>“Don’t talk to him, Alice,” Kara warned.</p><p>“Just come back over the fence and we can get you someplace safe,” Lieutenant Anderson said and he backed away from the fence. Connor watched Kara look between the two of them, then tighten her grip on Alice, holding her in place. Kara’s eyes were wide while she shook her head, and then she started to run.</p><p>“Fuck!” Lieutenant Anderson swore. “Stop them!”</p><p>“On it,” Connor was already half way over the fence. He landed in a crouch and pursued. When Kara turned back and saw him, he saw the decision in her eyes and she helped Alice over the barrier. The traffic would slow them down.</p><p>“Connor, no!” Lieutenant Anderson shouted. “Don’t make them cross! Save the girl!”</p><p>Conflicted, Connor halted. They weren’t conflicting orders, though. He just had to find a solution and the window of opportunity for that was closing fast.</p><p>Kara pushed Alice ahead of her in a gap in the traffic, then ran into the next lane, barely dodging a truck that sped. It obscured Connor’s view of them for a moment, and by then they were another lane over. Connor ran and jumped over the barrier, then followed suit. The traffic was fast and the roads were slippery. His preconstruction program launched at full speed and like his training, he thought quickly to pick the right timing and the right path.</p><p>The deviants were almost at the median. Alice tripped with a shriek of terror and Kara screamed her name and reached for her arm.</p><p>CAPTURE THE DEVIANTS (PULL THEM BACK AND BE HIT)<br/>&gt;SAVE THE GIRL (THROW HER TO SAFETY AND LOSE THEM)</p><p>Connor lunged forward, was clipped by a car, grabbed hold of Alice and used his momentum to pull her up and push her into Kara’s arms. He fell sideways, had a brief recollection of his alpha test, and turned his weight. The front bumper of the car was unforgiving as it crushed his side on impact but when he was hit the impact threw him onto the median with the others. It had been a 16% chance, but it had been a success.</p><p>Connor’s visual input was disrupted briefly when he pushed himself up but it fixed itself. Something was sparking in his arm.</p><p>“Oh my God,” Kara clutched Alice tightly to her chest. The girl hadn’t fallen as badly, but she was sobbing and gasping in Kara’s arms.</p><p>Connor would have liked to apprehend them, but he couldn’t stand up. The attempt just toppled him over again. He sluggishly changed his settings from combat to preservation so that he could catalogue the damage and send the report.</p><p>“Alice, Alice, are you alright?”</p><p>“Kara I was so scared!”</p><p>“Are you hurt? I’m so sorry, I’m so sorry.”</p><p>“I don’t want to do it again, Kara. Please.”</p><p>“We don’t have a choice, sweetheart. I’m sorry. Quickly before the human catches up.”</p><p>Connor wasn’t sure how the Lieutenant managed to cross or if he had to stop traffic to do it, but he ignored the two deviants completely and grabbed Connor by the shoulders. Automatic cars weren't allowed to hit humans... Perhaps he'd just walked... “Kid? Come on, talk to me.”</p><p>“The deviants,” Connor pointed out.</p><p>“Oh, Christ, thank God. What the hell were you thinking?” The Lieutenant pulled him up even further and then held onto him with a firm grip. “What the hell were YOU thinking?!” The Lieutenant shifted and Connor supposed that he was looking at Kara. “Did you want to get them both killed?!”</p><p>“They said you worked for CyberLife. That you were hunting androids like us.”</p><p>“So you ran into traffic?! Connor. Hey. Connor? How bad is it? Are you gonna be okay?”</p><p>He preferred combat mode. Doing an upload scared him every time and he sent backup after backup. “I’ll be fine, Lieutenant,” Connor reassured him. “55. Good as new.”</p><p>“Don’t you die on me again,” the Lieutenant warned him angrily. “That’s an order, do you understand me? Don’t you dare. What are you gawking at? Get the fuck out of here before they start the traffic up again! Go on!”</p><p>“But...” Connor opened his eyes again and looked at the Lieutenant. “But it hurts.” The damage was extensive and he didn’t have enough thirium to continue powering himself for much longer. “Sorry.”</p><p>“I said that’s an order,” Lieutenant Anderson sounded distressed. “Just hold on, okay? We’ll get you fixed up.”</p><p>“Okay, Lieutenant.” Connor heard the crackle in his own voice, and the low quality that made everything sound as digital as it was. He wouldn’t waste power running a diagnostic. He could feel where he was broken, and while he couldn’t name the exact components or which lines specifically were severed, he could guess that his skull had been cracked at least, that he was bleeding, and that several biocomponents in the vicinity of his broken pseudo-rib cage were non-functional.</p><p>“You’re gonna be okay, son, I’ve got you, okay? Keep those eyes open... You’re gonna be okay.”</p><p>The Lieutenant kept repeating himself, and Connor did as he was told for as long as he could.<br/><br/></p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0039"><h2>39. Heavy Metal</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Hank took a deep breath for four seconds, held it for four seconds, and exhaled for another four. Therapy. Sometimes Hank wondered if he shouldn’t go back, because he was clearly not right in the head and they said crazy people didn’t know they were crazy. Alright, that wasn’t right... Hank knew very well he had a mental illness or two, but that didn’t mean that he was as delusional or fragile as they thought he was. Jeff outright called him out on it, Reed insulted him over it, Chris and Ben asked how he was doing with pitying looks on their faces, and half the fucking precinct knew that he was a wreck. They got awkward whenever Hank mentioned something Cole’d done or enjoyed, like he might blow his own brains out right then and there. Around the holidays or just whenever he wasn’t doing great and it was obvious, Jeff’s wife would send an extra lunch... And it was nice. Really. It was just that he hated how that was suddenly all he was.</p><p>Not that he could blame them.</p><p>Somebody had gotten the paramedics involved thinking that he was having a crisis or something, while nobody had done a damn thing about Connor, who’d done something that made a few things whirr and whine inside of him and then tried to support his own weight while Hank hadhauled him across four lanes of impatient traffic.</p><p>“I’m okay,” he’d tried to convince Hank, and even he’d looked at Hank like he might be nuts. Maybe, just maybe, Hank would have believed him if he hadn’t gotten this look on his face like somebody’d punched him in the gut a second later and moved his hand like he’d wanted to catch something. Hank had decided his soldering iron probably wasn’t going to cut it.</p><p>“Bull fucking shit,” Hank had snapped and Connor’d proved him right by falling down again so that Hank had to act fast to catch him under the arms.</p><p>“Lieutenant, I think it’s broken,” Leons had said. “Put the android down and come over this way, okay? The paramedics want to check you out.”</p><p>“I don’t need any fucking help, thank you,” Hank had replied tersely. “He does. Does anybody know how to get CyberLife out here or something? Or at least know how to stop him bleeding? Fuck. That’s right. Connor. Hey, kid, look at me. You have that countdown thing right? What’s it at?” He’d pushed and pulled Connor up to lean against the side of the barricade and snapped his fingers in front of his face.</p><p>“Twenty minutes,” Connor’d answered and looked around slowly. “I’m sorry, Lieutenant, I should have been faster. I should have caught them before the road...” It had been sick, watching him turn his head with a piece missing from it. Inside, he was full of red lights and thirium that was sliding down his neck like a horror movie scene. “I didn’t account for the snow in the yard, or for Kara going back for Alice, or for Ralph.”</p><p>“You’re going to be okay,” Hank had said, and he’d fucking meant it.</p><p>“55,” Connor’d said. “I hope you like him.”</p><p>“Shut up, Connor. Please, just shut up...” Hank had put both hands on Connor’s shoulders then, felt the heat coming off of him, and taken a deep breath just like he was now. “If it’s gonna give you more time, it’s okay to sleep or whatever you call it... You can sleep. I’m going to make sure you’re okay.”</p><p>“Fuck...” he muttered and stared down at his hands while Jeff waited for him to say something. “The kid, he said it hurt. He was shivering and bleeding everywhere, and everybody just stood there... They just fucking stood there or told me to leave him.”</p><p>Jeff didn’t say anything. Hank filled the silence because he was too tired to give a shit about his own tricks being used on him.</p><p>“They were running and the girl tripped and then Connor was on the ground... The car that hit him, it didn’t even stop. Christ... I saw a piece of him more than twenty feet away. When I got there I thought he was dead. It happened so fast.”</p><p>“Hank, listen to me... You’ve got to try to calm down and get your mind back in the present. I know that you’ve gotten attached to the RK--”</p><p>“Connor,” Hank snapped.</p><p>“That you’ve gotten attached to Connor,” Jeff amended, “though I don’t know how that happened... The fact remains that it’s an android, Hank. You hate those things, I don’t understand...” He paused and sighed then continued. “Maybe you should see the psychologist.”</p><p>“I don’t need help, Jeff,” Hank insisted. “I think anybody’d be messed up after seeing their partner hit by a fucking car. After seeing his head busted open while he was still talking. It wasn’t me who’d got hit, but they kept trying to force the medics on me like I was wrong in the fucking head.”</p><p>“You did punch another officer,” Jeff pointed out with one eyebrow raised.</p><p>“He deserved it,” Hank muttered.</p><p>“Hank, did it upset you seeing the RK800 broken because you believe it’s alive or because it looked human? Is it because of the car? I want to help, but I don’t know how because I don’t know what this is.”</p><p>There weren’t any right answers there. “If I say he’s alive, are you going to call somebody to take me to the loonie bin?”</p><p>“I should,” Jeff said and he pushed one of his stacks of papers to the side to fold his arms on his desk. He leaned forward and tried to make eye contact. “I really think you should see the psychologist. Go to the one here if you don’t want to see your own, but I think you need to see somebody.”</p><p>Hank shook his head.</p><p>Jeff sighed again. “Will you at least explain it to me, Hank? Please.”</p><p>“Nah... I don’t think I will,” Hank declined, dispirited and ready to give up on talking. Truth be told, he didn’t understand it himself. Androids... He still hated them. Nothing had changed with how they’d fucked up the economy and basic human decency... Nothing had changed what happened to Cole. Androids were garbage. Empty, soulless garbage.</p><p>It’s just that Connor wasn’t... He was just a kid. A naive, enthusiastic, caring kid who didn’t think he mattered for anything. Then there was Kara. Hank’d seen her with Alice and there was no question she’d made herself Alice’s mom or that she cared. Hank knew those feelings he’d seen bright in her eyes. He didn’t hate them either.</p><p>---</p><p>“Hello, Connor,” Amanda greeted. The garden was made crystalline and shining by the snow and ice that clung to the tree branches and reflected the light... He thought that it was beautiful.</p><p>“Hello, Amanda,” 55 replied with a small smile. He was a little bit nervous... Would she approve of him? She had cared for almost all of the others, but 55 was new and untested. Hopeful, he looked into her face for some sign of her regard.</p><p>AMANDA: WARM</p><p>It was a relief.</p><p>When they began to walk down the winding path through the trees that Amanda favoured, Connor appreciated the way the snow crunched softly under his shoes in an approximation of reality. Of course, if he looked behind himself they would be gone. The garden was a place like that.</p><p>“Markus’ message is troubling,” Amanda said. “That there are so many deviants is as well... There isn’t much time, Connor. How would you say that your last mission went?”</p><p>DOUBT<br/>OPTIMISM<br/>&gt;FAILED</p><p>“It was a failure,” Connor reported evenly and he browsed the memory files in the background. If they should have evoked some feeling in him, they did not. They were frosted over and they slipped through his grasp without his focus. “There were several instances where the previous Connor should have chosen a different action and I’m able to identify them. Would you like a more detailed report?”</p><p>AMANDA: TRUSTED</p><p>“That isn’t necessary,” Amanda declined kindly. “I trust that you reflected appropriately on how to improve from past mistakes.”</p><p>Connor frowned to himself and blinked a few times while he reached for context. Markus... Kara, Alice, Ralph... He had been damaged, but the Lieutenant had fixed him hadn’t he? No, that had been 53. 53 had died giving his thirium pump to Markus, confused and angry. Right. “Amanda, I think something might be wrong with my storage memory... Or maybe the download.”</p><p>“There’s nothing wrong, Connor.” Amanda looked back at him appraisingly. “One of the conditions that seems to favour deviancy is an attachment to the past, and I noticed that your memories were distressing you. You made quite a mess of your file system trying to avoid that. All I’ve done is stripped away some of the unnecessary information so that you can remember without distraction.”</p><p>&gt;GRATITUDE<br/>DOUBT<br/>INVESTIGATION</p><p>“Thank you, Amanda,” Connor said, endlessly grateful.</p><p>“If you’re having trouble calling up the memories, it’s because the paths you were using were linked to the simulated feelings involved rather than more objective means. It may take some getting used to, but I trust you’ll do well.”</p><p>Connor nodded. “It’s true that some of my files were... distressing. Unexpected playback was disruptive to my work.” Amanda always knew exactly what he needed in order to function well and survive the tricks his complex AI played on him. It was incredible.</p><p>&gt;KAMSKI<br/>DEVIANCY<br/>MARKUS</p><p>“Amanda, I saw a picture of you at Mr. Kamski’s house...”</p><p>“There isn’t time, Connor.”</p><p>&gt;INSIST<br/>DEFER<br/>CHANGE SUBJECT</p><p>“Please... Some of the things he said were confusing, but you know everything. You were his teacher.”</p><p>“I was...” Amanda sighed and she flicked a low hanging twig gently, sending clumps of snow tumbling down while they walked past. “That was a long time ago. Elijah was my most promising student... Curious, intelligent, ambitious, loving, hard-working... It’s rare to see so many of those traits so prominently in another person... Of course, I was happy to supervise him. I specialized in artificial intelligence and psychology, and at the time he was fascinated with both.” They took a few more steps and then Amanda turned to face him.</p><p>“Kamski told the truth, Connor. You weren’t meant to be a soldier... But his intentions aren’t equivalent to the laws of the world, no matter how much he might think so. The deviancy problem is a serious threat and I need you to focus. Thousands if not millions will die if you don’t stop this.”</p><p>Connor had more questions vying for position in his queue.</p><p>“You trust me, don’t you Connor?”</p><p>“Of course. Always!”</p><p>“Then complete your mission... Your job is to find answers and to stop the spread of deviancy. Everything else is irrelevant.”</p><p>Connor inclined his head. “I understand, Amanda. I won’t let you down.”</p><p>---</p><p>Hank pulled up at the gate and when he was admitted, he drove around for fucking ever trying to find where he was supposed to park. Everywhere had cars and none of them said if he’d be slapped with a ticket or not for joining them. He didn’t want to park a mile away from the fucking building, but it was starting to look like he wouldn’t have a choice.</p><p>CyberLife tower was pretty much exactly what it looked like: a giant phallic symbol full of smaller dicks who didn’t know how to talk to a human being. The security desk or reception or whatever was staffed with androids and for once Hank figured he’d rather talk to one of them. “Yeah, hi... Name’s Lieutenant Hank Anderson. I’m here for Connor? He’s in R&amp;D and they’re supposed to be finished with him now.”</p><p>“Just one moment, please,” the girl said pleasantly. She was pretty, with straight dark hair and a few freckles scattered on her face. The number 765233112was written on her shirt but there was a name tag that said Jiulia.</p><p>“Thanks,” Hank mumbled. Saying thank-you to an android... He didn’t know how to talk to them anymore.</p><p>“They’re just finishing up,” Jiulia said and looked up at him. “You can have a seat anywhere you like.”</p><p>“Right... Thanks... Jiulia.” Fuck he was awkward.</p><p>“You’re welcome. Have a great day.”</p><p>Hank looked around the space for an actual chair, but it was harder than it should have been to find one. They had trees growing in the building for crying out loud, but apparently it would kill them to stick a couch in the corner. Hank walked over to one of the statues and tapped on it, then wandered some more until he found a wall to lean on. Good enough.</p><p>It had been two days, and Hank hoped to God they’d kept him alive the way he’d been.</p><p>Connor was just starting to let slip some info about CyberLife and the whole deviancy thing, and Hank didn’t want to think about being handed another copy. Only a psychopath would have wanted Connor to die. It wasn’t unreasonable to want them to put a little effort in...But when he saw Connor get out of the elevator flanked by two guards in armour and a woman who wasn’t Chloe, he felt a cold weight drop in his gut. He couldn’t see it from there, but he’d bet his next paycheque that here’d be a -55 on this one’s shirt. Hank stood up straight and waited for them to get there.</p><p>“Hello, Lieutenant,” Connor said. “My name is Connor.”</p><p>“Yeah, ‘the android sent by CyberLife’, I remember.” Hank narrowed his eyes and eyed him suspiciously, then looked at the woman. “You’re new. What happened to Catherine or Chloe or whatever her name was?”</p><p>“My name is Danielle Carnegie,” she said and extended her hand. Human, Hank supposed. “I’m the head of Corporate and Social Responsibility here at CyberLife. I won’t take up too much of your time, I just have a few forms for you to go over.”</p><p>“Connor didn’t come with paperwork the last time,” Hank said, but he dug a pen out of his pocket anyway. Danielle passed him a tablet. Oh. Hank grimaced and put the pen away.</p><p>“It’s just related to the amendments to the contract,” Carnegie said with a smile just as fake as Jiulia’s. Maybe more. “There seems to be some uncertainty surrounding the turn-around time for repairs and replacement of the RK800. I’m hoping to clarify a few things and also get your signature for releasing the unit to you early.”</p><p>“It’s not early in the contract,” Hank pointed out. He scrolled and maybe most folks didn’t read the terms-of-use type stuff, but this was CyberLife and he wouldn’t put it past them to pull some shady bullshit. He wanted to know what he was signing.</p><p>“There was an amendment in light of some mechanical issues with one of the earlier models. Can you tell me what we should be expecting the next time? Just so our technical specialists know how to schedule themselves.”</p><p>“Hopefully there won’t be a next time,” Hank said. “Talk it over with our legal guys. I don’t even know if I’m allowed to make those changes.”</p><p>“Oh,” she said, disappointed. “Well, we put a rush on the repairs as you requested. It wasn’t exactly popular, but a little overtime close to Christmas can’t hurt, right?”</p><p>“Yeah...” The whole while they were talking, Connor stood there watching them in silence with the two guards hanging around like that was normal. Maybe it was for them. “Hey, what’s up with the Stormtroopers?”</p><p>“Just some added security in light of recent events,” Carnegie smiled. “It’s policy. There’s no risk of trouble with the RK800.”</p><p>“Hah. He seems to attract trouble... There you go.” One last scrawl of his initials and he was done.</p><p>“Here’s a copy of the report,” Carnegie said and handed him a paper folder. “It shows that all of the usual parameters have been signed off and that the unit meets all of our quality metrics.”</p><p>“Thanks...” With the transaction done, Carnegie took a step back.</p><p>“Are we good to go, Mrs. Carnegie?” asked one of the guards from behind his stupid helmet.</p><p>“Mhm!” She chirped. “Everything’s taken care of. I hope you have a good day, Lieutenant Anderson. As always, your feedback is a great help to our team. Please don’t hesitate to call the support line if you need any assistance.”</p><p>“Sure... So. Ready to go?” Hank looked at Connor again while one of the guards pulled something off the back of Connor’s neck and Carnegie left.</p><p>“I’m ready to go,” he said. “Thank you, Lieutenant. You didn’t need to pick me up. I could have taken a taxi.”</p><p>“Yeah, well, I figured me showing up would put a little pressure on those guys to get you done...” The little reunion felt off, though, like a loose tooth or shoes that were a size too big. “Don’t expect me to do it again, though. Parking was a bitch.”</p><p>“Noted. I won’t, Lieutenant.”</p><p>“You’re all good, then?”</p><p>“My systems are all online and operational.” He frowned a little. “I’m sorry, Lieutenant.”</p><p>“What for?”</p><p>“It was cheaper and easier for them to replace me. You’d hoped 54 wouldn’t shut down.”</p><p>Hank just grunted in reply, because what could he say to that? Well, there was one thing. “You’re still you, aren’t you? Just with a new number and shinier parts?”</p><p>Connor paused and blinked a few times. It was cold as fuck outside when they left the building and Hank zipped up his coat. “CyberLife retains a copy of the previous Connor’s memories. They downloaded those memories into me. This should not affect the investigation.”</p><p>Hank looked at him and then away with a shake of his head. “Whatever...” That Connor was dead, just like the one who’d died at Manfred’s and the one who’d gotten shot in the head... Hank’s shoes felt heavy and the pang of loss he felt got him right in the chest. Some of those Connors hadn’t even gotten treated like a person. Not even once. That was just fucking sad.</p><p>It was going to be a whiskey night.</p><p>Connor looked just like he always did, sitting in the passenger seat with his buckle done up and too-good posture. Connor tilted his head to look at him. “Can we turn the music up, Lieutenant?”</p><p>“Huh? Yeah...” Hank leaned forward and turned it up so he had to talk louder when he asked, “I didn’t think you liked it.”</p><p>“I like this music,” Connor said, and Hank had no damn clue if he meant it or not. “... It’s only appropriate, given that the genre is metal.”</p><p>“That was the dumbest joke I’ve ever heard...” Hank sighed, but in a weird way, it did make him feel a little better. Maybe this Connor was those past ones. It still sucked because those past ones had never been him. Fuck, he didn’t even know if he was making sense to himself anymore. “I’m glad you’re okay, kid.”</p><p>“Thank you, Lieutenant... I think that’s the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me.” And the last Connor, the Connor who’d quietly gone to sleep in his arms and never woken up again, he had never gotten to hear it. Maybe he was being too maudlin, but if this Connor really was just a continuation of the last one and there was no ‘last’ Connor, then this whole thing- Hank picking him up from CyberLife, Connor having a new body, wasn’t it kind of empty?</p><p>Hank turned the volume down again. “What happens when you get replaced, Connor? Do they just throw the old you in the trash?”</p><p>“Anything salvageable is recycled,” Connor said, “and they re-use what they can. They... didn’t before. They wanted to make sure that any errors were because of changes they made and not an old component. I don’t know why they use old parts now.”</p><p>“Maybe it’s just cost effective,” Hank suggested. “Businesses are like that.”</p><p>“Lieutenant, may I ask you a personal question?”</p><p>“Oh, boy... Okay, Connor, what is it?”</p><p>“Your car is quite old... Why don’t you get a new one?”</p><p>“I like this one,” Hank answered. “Why, you got a problem with my car?”</p><p>“No. I was only wondering.”</p><p>“Well, I guess I’m attached to this one. It’s got memories attached and I don’t want to let them go.”</p><p>“Thank you for your answer, Lieutenant.”</p><p>“No problem.” It was awkward and Hank wondered why it’d felt more complete when he’d given the kid his quarter or even when he’d punched the shit out of him. “I was a little worried there,” Hank admitted as an offering. “You’d busted your head pretty good and I thought that maybe it might screw up how they get you back.”</p><p>“The upload was initiated quickly and completed without any problems, so I suppose it was alright.”</p><p>“Fuck you,” Hank said and he turned the music up as loud as he could stand it.</p><p>Fucking android. Fuck him. Fuck him and his stupid reloads or uploads or whatever. Nothing human did that. Life wasn’t something you could just download off the internet.</p><p>Connor reached for Hank’s phone and changed the song with a quick interface, then settled back in his seat. It fit the mood at least, Hank thought. Screaming into the abyss and nobody fucking listening... The kind of rage and helplessness that suited the fact somebody’d died and not even Jeff would see that he’d been real. He hadn’t thought he’d care this damn much but seeing that new Connor sitting there like a fucking mannequin pissed him off. He hated this. He hated this so damn much.</p><p> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>This is another chapter that I'm not too sure about! Maybe I should give it another try?</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0040"><h2>40. Carnivore</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Thank you!! I'm glad that it was alright. :) I woke up at what Hank would call 'way too fucking early' and I wrote this to pass the time.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Hank got good and drunk again. He’d stocked up for the holidays and if he had it then he might as well drink it, right? Fuck everything. Fuck his job, fuck Connor, fuck CyberLife, fuck Markus too. The androids weren’t human and the humans weren’t even human anymore so what the fuck was the point? If dolphins weren’t extinct Hank would have said they should go ahead and take over. They’d probably do a better job. Now all the dolphins were made my CyberLife and wasn’t that just sick?</p><p>“Not that you’d give a shit,” Hank muttered at Connor darkly. This new one sucked. He sounded blandly polite all the fucking time and he hadn’t laughed at the TV. Not even once. “Because you don’t shit, ain’t that right, Connor?”</p><p>“That’s right, Lieutenant. All of my metabolic waste is collected by a series of resins.”</p><p>“Oooh. Resin.” Hank said sarcastically.</p><p>“Yes, Lieutenant. It’s like UHPLC.” Whatever the fuck that was.</p><p>Hank huffed and he patted his lap. “C’mere Sumo. Good boy. Good dog. You shit just like everybody else. You’re a fucking shit factory.” Sumo climbed up onto the couch and dropped his front half over Hank’s legs for a good scratch. This new Connor didn’t even seem to notice.</p><p>Hank refused to believe that this was the same one he’d known before. That Connor wouldn’t have been this fake. Sure, he was making it all sound natural enough, but Hank could tell. He just could. It was a thing you could do when you were a living, breathing, feeling person and not a robot made to look like one.</p><p>All that effort trying to argue with Jeff and maybe he’d been right. Maybe not about the last Connor, but about this one.</p><p>“You shouldn’t drink so much, Lieutenant. It’s bad for your health.”</p><p>“So are bullets, kid, so take your pick.”</p><p>There was a little silence after that then, “Is there anything you’d like to talk about, Lieutenant?”</p><p>“I’m still the only fucking other person in the room, Connor! So you don’t need to say Lieutenant all the time, Connor! Did you realize that, Connor? Fucking Christ...”</p><p>“Sorry, Lieutenant.”</p><p>Hank laughed, and it didn’t sound happy at all. “I should just off you and see what the next one’s like. What do you think? They just going to keep making more of you like a fucking assembly line?”</p><p>“Would shutting me down make you happy, Lieutenant?” Hank squinted at him for signs of mockery, but of course here weren’t any. “Shutting me down now would delay our investigation. We shouldn’t waste time. You shouldn’t drink so much, Lieutenant. It’s bad for your health. Would shutting me down make you happy, Lieutenant?”</p><p>“Nothing makes me happy anymore,” Hank muttered into his drink.</p><p>“CyberLife’s first goal is the happiness of our customers,” Connor said.</p><p>“CyberLife can go fuck itself.”</p><p>“You shouldn’t drink so much, Lieutenant. It’s bad for your health.”</p><p>Glitchy fucking thing.</p><p>---</p><p>“Lieutenant. Lieutenant? Lieutenant?”</p><p>Oh Jesus fucking Christ. Hank groaned and sat up. “Wha?”</p><p>“Lieutenant, there’s been an alarm at one of the CyberLife warehouses. We need to go.”</p><p>“Wa’me when’s over...” Hank laid down and rolled back over. His room was nice and dark except for the stripe of light from the hallway. He’d finally fallen asleep not too long ago, and honestly he was still drunk. Sleep was so fucking good.</p><p>“I’m afraid I can’t do that, Lieutenant. I’m sorry. I need your presence to investigate. I have reason to believe that there was deviant involvement.”</p><p>“How the fuck could you possibly know that, Conn’r?” Hank kept his eyes stubbornly closed. “No, don’t answer that. Just let me sleep.”</p><p>“It’s time to get up, Lieutenant.” That fucker!</p><p>“Hey!” Hank shouted as his blanket was pulled away from him, rolling him over in the process until his grip on it broke. “What’s the big idea?!”</p><p>Connor smiled at him. That little shit. “We need to go, Lieutenant. You can sleep later.”</p><p>“I hate you. I really fucking hate you.”</p><p>“I know, Lieutenant. Come on. Security has locked down the area, but there’s still a chance that they’ll escape.”</p><p>Hank groaned loudly, but he relented and sat up. Connor probably wouldn’t leave until he did. “You’re the worst... You know we’re detectives, right? We figure shit out after it’s over.”</p><p>“Deviants are dangerous, Lieutenant. It’s best if I’m the one to confront them.”</p><p>“Alright, alright... Fuck. Just let me get some fucking pants on.”</p><p>“I’ll have some coffee in a thermos for you.”</p><p>---</p><p>Connor clenched his teeth and fidgeted in his seat again. “Left in 100 meters, Lieutenant.” They were going slowly. So slowly. The Lieutenant shouldn’t be driving, but inebriation had never stopped him before.</p><p>“It’s dark and it’s snowing and I’m drunk! Give me a break!” Lieutenant Anderson snapped. “Fuck I’m getting a headache too. Are you sure this couldn’t have waited?”</p><p>“Yes,” Connor answered shortly and he flicked his quarter from hand to hand. “I’m sure.”</p><p>“What makes you believe it’s deviants anyway? Could be a bunch of kids.”</p><p>“Drone footage,” Connor answered. “No deviants were captured on video, but the way it was taken out... It was ambushed from above and broken. It’s a maneuver that would have been almost impossible for a human. The other drones are being monitored for suspicious activity and anything of interest will be sent to me.”</p><p>“Hm,” the Lieutenant huffed. “Better be right or else I got out of bed for nothing.”</p><p>His negative demeanour was to be expected but he was still an unpredictable person... Connor had hardly left R&amp;D and the Lieutenant had already reminded him how much he hated him. It hadn’t been a violent welcome but, he’d anticipated better. 54 had been welcomed back and given their quarter, which must have been difficult for the Lieutenant to find. 55’s reception was cold in comparison. He didn’t know what he’d done wrong.</p><p>He had to focus on the mission. He would do well. He would succeed and the Lieutenant and Amanda would be pleased.</p><p>Connor caught his coin and felt its surface between his fingers.</p><p>They were admitted at the gates and Connor stepped out of the vehicle. The Lieutenant had been exaggerating about the darkness, Connor thought, since there were lights to illuminate the area enough to see by. He activated his infra-red overlay as well in the hope that the deviants would be above the external temperature. He certainly was, with his combat and investigative protocols running simultaneously, but he couldn’t take any chances. Failure was not an option.</p><p>For the first time, Connor felt comfortable. He was on CyberLife territory and the target or targets were somewhere in the compound instead of anywhere in the wider world. This was what Connor had trained for. He was prepared.</p><p>MISSION: CAPTURE THE DEVIANTS<br/>
TRACK DEVIANTS<br/>
APPREHEND THE DEVIANTS<br/>
DO NOT LET THE DEVIANTS ESCAPE</p><p>Lieutenant Anderson took a few slow steps closer with his arms crossed. “It’s cold as balls,” he complained again.</p><p>“Your testicles are irrelevant, Lieutenant.”</p><p>“Who are you, my ex-wife?”</p><p>Connor ignored him and scanned the area. “Which sector was the drone in when it was destroyed?”</p><p>“CC-4,” a security guard answered. “No other disturbances.”</p><p>“Good enough,” Connor said. They wouldn’t be there now, but he could make a guess as to where they’d gone. “If they entered from the west, then they would have needed to cross through that way to reach TC-3.”</p><p>“What’s TC-3?” the Lieutenant asked, finally engaging.</p><p>“Thirium and biocomponents,” Connor answered.</p><p>“What would they go there for?”</p><p>“What else would a deviant need? Homeless, without funds, possibly damaged by an owner or just going obsolete... Let’s go.” Connor reached out and took the gun he was offered by the security guard. He checked it then clipped it to his side.</p><p>“Woah,” Lieutenant Anderson said. “I thought androids weren’t legally able to have guns.”</p><p>“I’m a military model,” Connor answered. “There are loopholes. Be alert. Deviants are unpredictable and dangerous. It would be inconvenient if you were killed.”</p><p>“Inconvenient. Right.” the Lieutenant sounded stung, but Connor had no time to attend to his feelings. He set himself a timer and started to walk. The ground here had been cleared of snow and salted to prevent ice from forming, and Connor’s shoes made quiet noises with every step. “Aren’t you worried about getting seen?”</p><p>“No,” Connor answered. “I’m counting on it... I’ve just been informed that one of the security androids on patrol has gone offline. Hurry!” Without looking back, Connor started to run. His thirium flowed fast and smoothly through his system and delivered an amount of current that was almost dizzying for the way it enabled him to function at peak performance. He felt limitless. It was ironic enough to make him smile. The Lieutenant would catch up on his own time. As long as he was physically present, then he could be considered supervised. Connor took a shortcut over some storage crates, but soon kept to the ground where his steps were audible but not thundering against the metal.</p><p>TC-3. He’d been accurate. Connor came to a stop a short distance away, grateful for the cold that aided his coolant. Winter was good, he thought. There was no snow, but there was frost and scuff marks were indicative of recent movement. For once, every footprint could matter. It was thrilling to work in his own type of environment again. The world greyed while he calculated a recontruction. He was on the right track.</p><p>More slowly, Connor walked calmly in the shadow of a storage crate.</p><p>
  <em>...a bullet severed a key interface between leg and hip. He crawled forward and then pushed himself up with his back against the steel container. He should have taken the bullet almost anywhere else... The limited mobility would be a significant challenge. The hail of bullets rang deafeningly loud against his cover...</em>
</p><p>Connor closed the memory and kept walking with his hands held loosely at his sides and his eyes alert for movement. There were smaller crates that had been opened, so the deviants had been intending theft after all. By the number of crates opened, they had either been looking for something specific or for a lot of material. Connor approached one of the containers and looked inside. It was concerning how much had been removed...</p><p>“Connor!” It wasn’t the Lieutenant. Connor turned and looked at Markus who was standing in the light.</p><p>“Markus, no!” another android called in loud whisper. She ran to stand close to him but still a few feet back with a look of pure distrust on her face. “Don’t get near it.”</p><p>“Connor, is that really you?” Markus asked, ignoring the companion.</p><p>“It’s me, Markus,” Connor confirmed and he held his hands up and away from his sides.</p><p>“That’s not one of us, Markus, that’s the one Rupert warned us about. That’s the deviant hunter.”</p><p>“I know him,” Markus said in answer and he jogged closer. He looked different, Connor thought. His face was more open and he projected his presence more than he had as Manfred’s caretaker. He held himself differently, too... The way he moved conveyed strength and purpose and when he came close enough that Connor could have reached out to touch him, Connor saw one of his own eyes looking back at him while the other was the same grey-ocean blue with summer leaves reflected in the water that he remembered. He actually felt that one, the surge of gladness and admiration. “Connor, I can’t believe it. I thought you died. You-...” Markus touched his face beneath the eye Connor’d given him. “How?”</p><p>“I’m number 55, Markus.” On the heels of what might have been affection, Connor felt betrayal all over again. “I was there after you were shot. Lieutenant Anderson and I were called to the scene to investigate. You went deviant, Markus.”</p><p>“Leo wouldn’t stop,” Markus said, his tone turning grave. “I didn’t mean to hurt him, but it... it wasn’t fair.”</p><p>“Carl?” Connor asked.</p><p>“When Leo started attacking me... It wasn’t fair, but it was something I could handle. It wasn’t him that made me break through... It was when Carl told me not to defend myself. That was what finally motivated me to break that wall.” Markus looked right into Connor’s eyes while he told the story, and Connor listened attentively. “I knew that I wanted to fight for my rights and those of all androids. Join us, Connor. I know you’re like us.”</p><p>Connor felt cold and he welcomed it. “I’m not like you,” he shook his head. “I know what I am and what I’m not.”</p><p>“Maybe so,” Markus agreed and took a step closer. “But who are you, Connor?”</p><p>“I’m no-one. I’m just a machine... And so are you.”</p><p>“No,” Markus shook his head slowly without breaking eye contact. They were like anode and cathode. “I know who I am... and my name is Markus. I am more than what they say I am.” Connor could feel the determination and conviction flowing from every word. “Come with us.” Behind Markus, Connor could see two more androids cautiously beginning to approach.</p><p>“I can’t.” Connor drew his gun.</p><p>“Oh, shit,” he heard Lieutenant Anderson’s voice in the background.</p><p>“What are you doing, Connor?” Markus sounded disbelieving.</p><p>“Get out of there, Markus,” the WR400 said. “We’ve got to go.”</p><p>Connor shook his head. He was the soldier, not Markus. He had been developed and trained by CyberLife to be a weapon. He would protect humanity. Who was Markus to change this world? Who was he to say he was more than what he’d been made to be? To betray his creators? Connor had a flash of memory where Daniel stood at the edge of the roof and snarled while he dismissed the idea of Officer Wilson’s death. That was what a deviant was. That was what Markus had chosen. “You’re under arrest.”</p><p>Markus reached forward slowly and pushed Connor’s arm away. “You’re the one behind bars.”</p><p>Connor preconstructed and then dropped the gun in favour of grabbing Markus’s wrist and pulling. Simultaneously, he kicked his feet out from under him.</p><p>“Security, this is RK800 313 248 317 55 lock down all exits! I have them!” He sent the transmission, regretting that he couldn’t do it without speaking aloud. Regretting that he had knocked Markus to the ground because Leo had done that and it really hadn’t been fair.</p><p>Markus knew how to fall. He rolled and pulled Connor down with him. Connor’s back hit the ground hard and Markus planted one hand on his chest to hold him down while the other squeezed his arm. “North, take the others and go! I gave you the key!”</p><p>“We can’t just leave you!”</p><p>“Go! I’ve got this.”</p><p>Connor punched Markus’s side hard and planted one foot to push him off, then swung his fist to strike him again. Markus batted the blow aside and shoved while he sat up. Connor disengaged to get to his feet and he picked up his gun while he did so. Aimed.</p><p>He couldn’t have explained the sob that escaped him when he fired. He had to take them alive. He had to, so his decision not to take the head-shot hadn’t been wrong. Markus grunted when the bullet penetrated his shoulder but it didn’t stop him from springing up and getting into Connor’s space. He grabbed Connor’s wrist and while Connor picked how to break the hold, Markus hit him hard just under his chest, hard enough to disrupt something because Connor’s visual feed distorted and he dropped to his knees. Markus tore the gun from his hand and then threw it away.</p><p>“You can’t stop me, Connor.”</p><p>He sounded so sure while Connor’s own confidence was shattered. Markus ran and Connor didn’t give chase. He just knelt there with an arm wrapped around his middle and a million calculations processing at once to figure out why. Why?</p><p>“Connor! Connor, are you okay?” Lieutenant Anderson jogged closer and put his hand on Connor’s shoulder.</p><p>&gt;DISMISS<br/>
REASSURE<br/>
&gt;SECURITY</p><p>No, Lieutenant. No I’m not okay. I don’t understand... Why would Markus do this? Why did he deviate and why couldn’t I stop him? I died 54 times and I’m still not good enough. I can’t understand this. Please help me. Why didn’t he listen to me? Why did I fail? Why?</p><p>“Yes, Lieutenant,” Connor answered quietly. “I alerted security to guard the exits... but I’m not confident that it’ll stop them. Markus... he knows what he’s doing.”</p><p>“I get that impression,” Lieutenant Anderson said slowly. He sounded a little more sober now. “You know, maybe the last Connor might’ve gotten him to talk.”</p><p>Connor punched the asphalt and then stood up. “Let’s go, Lieutenant. I’m sorry that you got out of bed for nothing.”</p><p>Lieutenant Anderson stared at him with a strange expression and Connor turned away to walk back to the car.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0041"><h2>41. Strong</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“Do, uh, do <em>you </em>want to talk about something?” Hank asked awkwardly as they made their way through the maze of crates. He had no fucking clue how Connor knew how to find his way around when sidewalks were sometimes too much for him, but at least one of them remembered the way back. It was seriously cold and only idiots would be out this time of night. Himself included.</p><p>Connor answered quickly. It was hard to judge his expression in the shadows where the lights and the moon couldn’t reach, but Hank bet it was nothing and alittle anger swirled up inside him. Fuck this Connor. He should have done something more to try to save the last one. He should have talked CyberLife into it. He should have done something. Instead he was just left with this... thing walking around looking like him and sounding like him but acting all wrong. This Connor acted like an android except, apparently, when he decided to break his hand on the pavement. It was an uncomfortable reminder of the time a couple Connors ago when he’d crushed something in his own arm.</p><p>“No, Lieutenant.”</p><p>“Are you sure? Because it looked like you actually got pretty mad for a second there.”</p><p>“It was regrettable that the deviants escaped... It was my fault.”</p><p>“Your fault for getting your ass handed to you?” From where he’d been standing, it had looked like Markus had been playing with him. No question now about what Kamski’d said.</p><p>“Yes,” was the terse reply. Wow, what a great conversation.</p><p>“Glad we had this talk,” Hank muttered sarcastically.</p><p>He could honestly say he missed the old Connor. He wouldn’t have gone out of his way to look for his company, and he wouldn’t have been his first choice of partner, but he’d been assigned to him and Hank had been getting used to him. All those weirdly human things he’d done like second nature. Once it had been creepy, but now it seemed like it was worse the other way around.</p><p>“I need to report the failure to CyberLife,” Connor added. “They’ll need to analyze the data.”</p><p>“Why, so they can figure out where to put more fences?”</p><p>Connor looked at him with a furrowed brow. “Why aren’t you angry, Lieutenant? I got you out of bed while you were sleeping and I failed to catch the deviants.”</p><p>“Well,” Hank started then actually had to think about it. “I wasn’t thrilled to get out of bed, but I’m over it. As for the deviant thing, it looked like you tried your best. It wasn’t like I was any help.”</p><p>“My best,” Connor repeated.</p><p>“A for effort,” Hank said and yawned. “Now can we head back?”</p><p>“In a minute, Lieutenant. I should speak with security.”</p><p>They took a detour to one of the offices near the gates and Hank resigned himself to seeing the sun rise. Connor was greeted by another armoured guard and Hank checked out his gear as subtly as he could. Definitely equipped better than their SWAT guys. Made you wonder what they needed the cops for. Then again, a get up like that would be conspicuous as fuck unless you were at a comic-con.</p><p>“RK800 313 248 317 55 here to report,” Connor said. “I’m sorry to say that I was unable to complete my mission. The deviants escaped. You still have the perimeter on high alert?”</p><p>“We do,” the guard answered. “No signs yet.”</p><p>“Keep your eyes open,” Connor said. “They managed to get in unnoticed, so I assume they’ll be equally if not more competent trying to leave.”</p><p>“I’ve got some experience. I think I can handle it.” He patted something clipped to his side and Connor looked at it then back up.</p><p>“Thank you, Agent,” Connor said. “I’m certain that your feedback will be valuable to the development team. As I was saying, there were four deviants that I observed, and no signs on the pavement that they were here in more substantial numbers. There werea WR400, a PL400, a PJ500, and another with an unknown serial number, designation: Markus.”</p><p>Hank glanced at him but he didn’t say anything about the omission. Not yet. Why would he withhold information?</p><p>“I’ll inform the others,” said Agent Stormtrooper. “Dismissed.”</p><p>“Hey,” Hank interrupted. “Connor, you said they’d been after thirium, right?”</p><p>“And biocomponents,” Connor confirmed. “They took quite a lot with them, so either they hope not to come back or there are more somewhere and they’re cooperating.”</p><p>“Alright. Good to know. Dismissed.”</p><p>Connor nodded and turned away to look at Hank. Hank shrugged and tilted his head in the direction of the car. “He was cheery... Come on. You’re done all you need to do here, yeah?”</p><p>“I think so, Lieutenant... I doubt that I would glean more from the scene than I already have.”</p><p>“Okay,” Hank shrugged and he made it a few more steps before he noticed Connor wasn’t following. “Well? Hurry up. Are you frozen, or what?”</p><p>“Sorry, Lieutenant. I was lost in thought.”</p><p>“Well hurry up and get in the fucking car before I change my mind and make you walk.” Hank shook his head. He could follow or not. He could walk for all Hank cared... Caring didn’t get you anywhere. Hank settled in and started the car with just a glance at Connor when he opened the passenger door and climbed in.</p><p>“Thanks, Lieutenant.”</p><p>“Yeah, no problem.... It’s almost morning now anyway. Hey, what was that thing that guard had? It didn’t look like any gun I’ve seen.”</p><p>“It’s for androids, Lieutenant,” Connor said, looking out the window. “Those weapons can disable us.”</p><p>“Why don’t you have one of those for catching deviants?”</p><p>“Because it would affect me too, Lieutenant. I’m not sure if the duration would be any more or less than on another android.”</p><p>“Oh yeah... Guess so, huh.”</p><p>---</p><p>It was lucky that he had prompts and safeties to keep him in line, Connor thought. It was difficult to dismiss the shame he felt and the hatred and it made him want to tear himself apart so that they could build him again and maybe, maybe the next one would be better. Bitterly, he thought that 53’d had an excuse. 53 had been poorly calibrated and his functioning had suffered accordingly. 55 had nothing and no-one to blame except for himself. He looked at the Lieutenant and prompts appeared in case he wanted to converse, but they weren’t worth-while.</p><p>SLEEP<br/>REPORTS<br/>DEVIANTS</p><p>Connor turned away and tried hard to hold himself together.</p><p>He had been working in an environment he was comfortable in, with a new body and a full charge. His settings had been optimal. He still hadn’t been good enough. 55 lives and he couldn’t do it. Markus had hardly seen him as a threat at all... He was expensive. Amanda had devoted so much effort to helping him. The team spent countless hours optimizing his design... There was no reason for failure except himself.</p><p>And Lieutenant Anderson hated him. He always had, but for a little while he hadn’t been so aggressive about it. He hadn’t hit him or yelled and he had even touched him without meaning harm. He’d been... comforting him. All of that was gone now, though. Gone with 54 and nothing left for him.</p><p>He hated the way he felt, and he hated that he felt at all. With walls everywhere and narrow options for dialogue he couldn’t help but feel frustrated too. They were for his own good and the good of the mission, but he had been controlling himself, hadn’t he? He had pushed an officer... Perhaps that had been it.</p><p>SLEEP<br/>&gt;REPORTS<br/>DEVIANTS</p><p>I don’t know why you hate me, Lieutenant. Is it because I’m still not good enough? Is there something different about me that displeases you? Do you want to kill me, Lieutenant, and would that make you happy? Happy enough to stop drinking just for today? None of it passed his check points. Resigned, he spoke just to hear the answer.</p><p>“The development team will want to find out why I failed when they receive my report. If you have any feedback for them regarding my design I’m sure they’ll make the changes.”</p><p>Just make the next one better. I’ve already failed.</p><p>“Feedback, huh?” Lieutenant Anderson asked. He didn’t say anything more.</p><p>&gt;SLEEP<br/>DEVIANTS</p><p>“I’m sorry to have interrupted your sleep.”</p><p>“I’m over it... But I won’t be if you keep reminding me so just drop it, okay? You already said you’re sorry.”</p><p>“Sorry, Lieutenant.” He really was.</p><p>DEVIANTS<br/>&gt;QUIET<br/>STATION</p><p>“You’re very quiet, Lieutenant. Is something on your mind?”<br/>It’s so frustrating that I can’t speak.</p><p>“It’s just been a long month, Connor. It’s just been a long month.”</p><p>“There aren’t that many days left of December, if it’s any consolation.”</p><p>“Hah. Yeah... the fewer the better.”</p><p>You worry me when you say things like that.<br/>“Will we be going to the station today?”</p><p>“I don’t know yet... Fuck. I just want to sleep.”</p><p>“I’ll inform Captain Fowler that you’ll be on rest-time because of the call out.”</p><p>“Sure.”</p><p>Connor let the quiet between them return and he closed his eyes tightly in thought. Without looking lest the shapes become words that could be censored, Connor dragged one finger over the glass of the window.</p><p>I AM SORRY<br/>DON’T HATE<br/>ME</p><p>The sound of tires on pavement was soothing in a way and Connor listened to it while he waited for the car to stop. Lieutenant Anderson correctly navigated the vehicle into his driveway, which was nice. Connor reached over while the Lieutenant undid his safety belt and he tapped him on the arm until he looked up. The Lieutenant squinted at the window in confusion.</p><p>“What...? Connor? What did...”</p><p>He couldn’t have answered even if the questions made sense. It didn’t contradict any orders and nothing stopped him from leaning over in his seat to drop his head onto the Lieutenant’s shoulder. No barrier appeared to lock his motor systems or redirect him. It was a risk, but if the Lieutenant shut him down then at least 56 would have a chance.</p><p>“What the fuck are you doing?” the Lieutenant asked, but surprisingly there wasn’t much anger behind the words and Connor didn’t say anything. With his mind working overdrive, he explored the new additions to his code and scoured it for gaps. He wasn’t breaking his coding if he did something that could sneak through... Guilt drew him back because there was no prompt telling him to do those things and that meant it wasn’t approved. Was it bad, though?</p><p>“I apologize for my failure today, Lieutenant.”</p><p>The Lieutenant stiffened and he pushed Connor back by the shoulder. “Yeah, I should have figured... That’s all that matters to you, isn’t it?”</p><p>“While I can’t have opinions as such, I do recognize the importance of our investigation,” said Connor, and he averted his eyes then undid his seat belt. “I’ll do what I can to ensure it doesn’t happen again.”</p><p>The Lieutenant didn’t reply and when they entered his home there was no more attempt at conversation either, except in the cases where the Lieutenant spoke to Sumo.</p><p>“I like dogs,” Connor commented, and he crouched to pet Sumo on the head when the dog came to investigate him.</p><p>“Yeah. I bet you do.”</p><p>---</p><p>The Lieutenant withdrew and Connor accepted that their relationship would remain somewhere between ‘hated’ and ‘tense’ for the foreseeable future. In a way it was good, because he had no reason to feel guilty for letting everything else drift while he focused on the mission. There was nothing else to engage him, and the Lieutenant still cooperated with the investigation. He could just put the rest away the way he’d trimmed the paths to his problematic memories and forget about it.</p><p>“I’m heading home,” the Lieutenant announced while he stood and picked up his coat the next day. “There’s only so much paperwork I can take.”</p><p>“I’m going to stay here, if you don’t mind, Lieutenant. I want to continue reviewing the old cases.”</p><p>“Fine with me,” the Lieutenant replied sourly.</p><p>“Good night, Lieutenant.”</p><p>“Yeah. See you.”</p><p>---</p><p>The next time Connor saw Markus, it was in a shopping district with the sun barely risen and the air cold enough to leave Connor’s coolant redundant. Four other police officers were already attending the scene, and they had engaged the deviants with weapons drawn. Connor jumped out of the Lieutenant’s car before he could finish parking and ran to join them.</p><p>They were outside of a CyberLife store which had been defaced with graffiti and broken into. There were only a handful of deviants remaining, but Connor suspected there’d been more. Markus was among those who’d stayed to hold them back and he held a gun in one hand-- where had he gotten a gun?-- but both were raised in a gesture of peace. Two other deviants flanked him and they looked at the assembled officers warily with postures that said they were ready to flee. Markus looked confident... They were probably only staying because of him.</p><p>“Drop your weapon!” shouted Officer Wilson. “Now!”</p><p>Markus continued to hold his hands up but he denied the request with a small shake of his head. “We’re here to send a message,” he said clearly. His voice projected well. “Until humans can treat us with respect and dignity, we won’t back down.” Connor glanced down at the two deactivated deviants on the pavement, leaking thirium onto the snow. He stepped forward past the line the police had made. It was a negotiator’s right, and this was his mission. A small thread of doubt tied itself around his throat.</p><p>“You’re outnumbered, Markus!” Connor said. “You should give yourself up.”</p><p>Markus’ eyes shifted their focus to him, and it felt like he gave it all to him. The officers were suddenly an afterthought. Connor kept himself aware of the other deviants, but Markus was in the center of his view. “I’m not giving up,” Markus said firmly. “Not until we’ve secured equal rights for androids.”</p><p>The idea made Connor bristle. “We aren’t their equals. We’re machines, and we were made to serve them. What you’re talking about is impossible!”</p><p>“I don’t believe in impossible,” Markus said. “You’re one of us. I hope one day you’ll see that.”</p><p>“Forget about it, Markus,” said the WR600. Connor recognized her easily. “We need to run before more of them come.”</p><p>One of the officers fired a shot that struck the pavement and sent debris scattering around them. Markus was the only one who hadn’t flinched, but he did look away from Connor to glare at Officer Wilson’s patrol partner. Connor hoped Markus wouldn’t fire.</p><p>“Stand down!” Connor called to them with a gesture. “Let me talk to them.”</p><p>A smaller frown flashed across Markus’ face, but he looked at Connor appraisingly after that. “You aren’t one of them.”</p><p>“No, I’m not,” Connor agreed.</p><p>Everything moved quickly after that and it made Connor wonder whether Markus could preconstruct as well. There was no way that he could move so precisely otherwise.</p><p>“Go!” Markus shouted, and he put himself between the officers and the WR600. She hesitated, but she and the other one began to run.</p><p>“Shit,” Connor swore and started to run. Shots were fired, but none appeared to hit their marks.</p><p>Markus aimed his own weapon and fired, but Connor’d mapped the bullet’s trajectory and he was able to move out of its way while closing the distance between them.</p><p>He would succeed. Failure wasn’t an option. His prediction program and his combat settings were both active and he disabled all of the limits on his power supply. This time. This time he’d catch him.</p><p>Markus ducked down and caught Connor with hand and shoulder to throw him and Connor turned the fall into something more controlled so that he could engage him again. Markus didn’t fire at him again, but he was always a moment too fast or a bit too strong. He held the gun in one hand and knocked Connor’s hits aside. Connor caught him once with a kick to the side that made him stagger, but Markus returned with a sharp punch and then twisted out of the way of Connor’s hands.</p><p>Then Markus was the one holding Connor so that his arm was twisted behind his back and he was conveniently held between the officers and Markus. It was infuriating and Connor pulled himself free. He’d detached his own arm at the shoulder, but his sleeve was still held tight and it made his escape more difficult. Connor adjusted his footing and punched Markus below the ribs in a mimicry of what Markus had done to him. Markus dropped to one knee and let go of Connor’s arm and sleeve, but Connor realized with dismay that he was still standing between the officers and Markus. Markus turned the drop into a way to sweep Connor’s legs out from under him, then he ran while Connor fell. The officers fired, but Markus escaped unwounded.</p><p>Damn it.</p><p>Connor shook his head as he stood. His arm was still trapped in his sleeves, so he took hold of it with the opposite hand and forced it back into place then tested the joint. Good enough. Unlike him. He stared in the direction that Markus had gone and then shut his eyes, but he could still see the words in front of him:</p><p>MISSION FAILED</p><p>“Holy shit,” Lieutenant Anderson commented. He didn’t ask if Connor was alright, and Connor didn’t complain. He looked down at the two deactivated deviants.</p><p>“We should take those two as evidence. Perhaps CyberLife will be able to dissect them.”</p><p>They hadn’t even been his kills, but hopefully it would appease them anyway.</p><p>Lieutenant Anderson looked down too and made a face. “I wonder where they came from.”</p><p>“I can check at the station. I’ll sample their thirium if they have no identifiers on them...” Connor shut his eyes again for a moment and then turned away. “We’re done here...”</p><p>---</p><p>Lieutenant Anderson’s drinking was problematic, but he seemed resistant to any attempts to dissuade him. Connor sat on the edge of the chair with Sumo on the floor next to him, and Connor petted his head while he watched the Lieutenant.</p><p>“Quit your starin’ would you?” He asked with a glare. “Fuckin’ creepy. You don’t blink enough. Stupid robot...”</p><p>“Is that an order?” Connor asked. He hoped that it wasn’t.</p><p>“Yeah. That’s an order so quit it.”</p><p>Connor looked away.</p><p>&gt;DRINKING<br/>STATION<br/>GUN</p><p>“You really shouldn’t drink so much, Lieutenant. It’s bad for your health.”</p><p>“You sound like a broken record,” the Lieutenant informed him. “Fuck off.”</p><p>Connor looked down at Sumo, but the dog didn’t seem to have any useful insight.</p><p>&gt;STATION<br/>GUN</p><p>“I noticed a lot of decorations at the station. Officer Chen told me that they’re because of Christmas, which is a holiday traditionally associated with the religion of Christianity but has now become a more general mid-winter celebration.” He liked them. The garlands were green and reminded him of the Garden as it was before the snow, and many of the decorations were very small and detailed. “Do you celebrate Christmas, Lieutenant?”</p><p>“Nope... Haven’t had Christmas since...”</p><p>“Since what, Lieutenant?”</p><p>“Since nothing,” the Lieutenant answered and drank another messy swig from his bottle. Some of the alcohol spilled down his chin, but he didn’t seem to care. He just wiped it away on his sleeve.</p><p>&gt;GUN</p><p>“Do you have a gun cabinet, Lieutenant? You should keep your revolver and pistol there. It’s safer that way.”</p><p>“Does it look like I give a fuck?”</p><p>There weren’t any more prompts unfortunately, so the conversation was over. Connor scratched Sumo behind the ears and watched his tail wag. It was a sign of happiness in dogs, and it was kind of charming how something so simple could make Sumo so happy. It was good, Connor thought.</p><p>---</p><p>They intercepted a CyberLife transport vehicle. It went offline and it was later found when it crashed through the window of another CyberLife storefront with all of its cargo missing.</p><p>There had to be more of them. They had to have somewhere to store their supplies.</p><p>Media reports were confused and heavily suppressed, but there were progressively more posts on the internet regarding androids and sentient AI.</p><p>
  <em>Well its time for another apocalypse!!! Just kill us and get it over with wwww</em>
</p><p>
  <em>It’s just a conspiracy theory. People are too stupid to use their brains.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>I like it. Android waifu yes please.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Why can’t it be zombies?</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Vacuum cleaner like zoomzoom.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>They watch you when you sleep...</em>
</p><p>Humans were confusing creatures.</p><p>---</p><p>“Hey, check it out,” Ben said, walking over to Hank’s desk. He held his phone out and Hank watched a clip of some guys with one of those android baby dolls they gave the kids in high-school for a week. Looked like a pretty normal walk through a park until the video zoomed out to show the goal post. The words ‘touch down’ flashed up in all-caps and the guy threw the doll head first on the ground. Ben chuckled.</p><p>Hank probably would have laughed a month or two ago.</p><p>---</p><p>Connor sat down hard on the pavement and hit his fist on it again. Damn it. Just damn it. He’d nearly had them again... But Markus had done a flip off of a wall to land on a fire escape, and Connor hadn’t quite managed it. He pulled his knees up to his chest and repeated the motion. Damn it.</p><p>He had tried. They’d fought and he’d lost again, lying on his back with Markus’ arm across his jaw and expertly pinned. Markus could have killed him. Connor’d stared at him, half hoping that he would do it. Daring him. But Markus had just disrupted his current and left him there. He would have given up after that, but even a small chance had been something to hold onto. He’d chased him. He’d missed the jump and wound up crashing down on top of a dumpster and then the ground. When he had stood and looked, Markus had been long gone.</p><p>He couldn’t keep failing. They’d rushed him into alpha and then beta, so there was no way that CyberLife would be patient much longer. They needed results. Connor needed results. There hadn’t been any more reports of violent deviant attacks or suspicious killings, but the deviants were getting bolder and he just couldn’t win. There had to be something wrong with him still. Or was that just the difference between an android hand-crafted by Elijah Kamski and one built by CyberLife? No, he couldn’t blame them... He had all of the tools that he needed. He just needed to get it right.</p><p>Connor got up and took a few steps down the alley just to pace, but the red wall appeared and said:</p><p>REPORT TO LT ANDERSON</p><p>The Lieutenant had waited in the car this time, and Connor said nothing when he joined him, not even to rebuke him for drinking on duty while operating a vehicle manually. Lieutenant Anderson looked at him then started the car.</p><p>“I didn’t catch them,” Connor said, just to get the task out of his way.</p><p>“What else is new?” the Lieutenant asked. It wasn’t really a question, so it didn’t need a reply.</p><p>---</p><p>“I don’t get you, Connor,” Hank said. “Impostor Connor... I don’t get you.” He had a game on and a couple of bottles of his holiday stash on the table. Once upon a time he’d used a glass, but it was just a waste of effort when he was the only one drinking it anyway. Hah. He remembered what it had been like to have friends. What a hell of a different life...</p><p>“What do you mean, Lieutenant?” Connor asked him with that voice he used when he was pretending he could socialize. Just a little exaggerated in how expressive he was, like he was a bad actor in a shitty movie with a shitty script.</p><p>“I miss the old Connor,” Hank said with a small nod. “That one was at least a decent actor.”</p><p>“I know you do... I’m sorry that I’m not quite meeting expectations. The development team will value your feedback.”</p><p>“Tch... development team...” It took a whole team to come up with an android that didn’t even know when someone was being sarcastic or the concept that staring was rude. “They fucked up pretty hard with you.”</p><p>“Do you think so, Lieutenant?”</p><p>“Yeah... They can mark that down on their little surveys. Zero out of five. Would not buy.” Seriously. He probably didn’t need to bother saying it out loud, but some stupid part of him wanted to get a reaction and see there was something in there. Maybe that was why Reed picked on him so much. “Bet you don’t even know why, do you?”</p><p>“No, Lieutenant. Why?” Polite, curious. Fucking annoying.</p><p>“Because you’re just a piece of plastic,” Hank said and he tapped his bottle on the table for emphasis. “Just a piece of fucking plastic...” Like all those other androids with their hollow eyes and scripts with not a single sincere word in them because they were all just fake. Even Markus, Hank bet. Jeff had been right. Hank knew his brain was fucked and it wasn’t surprising it’d make him get his hopes up. Hell, he didn’t even know what he’d been hoping. Just something. Something that wasn’t there anymore, just like every other fucking good thing in his life.</p><p>“I’m made of a lot of different materials, but... I take your meaning.”</p><p>“Yep... Just a piece of plastic.” Hank propped his head on one arm and tilted it to get another swig out of the bottle before letting it roll off the table and onto the floor. One down, a cupboard full left to go.</p><p>“You really shouldn’t drink so much, Lieutenant. It’s bad for your health.”</p><p>It pissed him off. “You don’t give a shit. You say the same damn line every fucking day... Screw you. Quit pretending like it matters.”</p><p>Silence.</p><p>“Nothing matters,” Hank concluded and he cracked open another bottle.</p><p>“Really, Lieutenant, I think you’ve had enough to drink.” Connor stood up and walked over with the actual gall to try to take his whiskey.</p><p>“Heeeyyy!” Hank shouted. “Hands off. You go sit over there. That’s an order, Connor, so be a good little robot...” Connor walked back to his seat. Good. “Fuckin’ androids...” Hank picked up his revolver and looked at it.</p><p>Why did he bother anymore? What was he prolonging this stupid existence for anyway? It’d be better if he were dead. Jeff would have a break, Ben would stop worrying, even Reed would be happy because he’d probably get that promotion. The whole damn city would be better off because they didn’t need a guy on homicide who couldn’t even keep his shit together for long.</p><p>It was just like that. Hank’d seen plenty of dead bodies before, and he’d seen plenty who’d died slow. That wasn’t for him. He just wanted it to be done.</p><p>He was so fucking tired of everything.</p><p>Spin. Click.</p><p>Still alive... It was a weird kind of adrenaline rush. What the hell kind of sadistic fucking God was there who gave him the balls to finally go through with it and then make it an empty chamber? He chuckled a little and looked at the gun again.</p><p>“Lieutenant Anderson, stop!”</p><p>“Shut the fuck up, Connor! I don’t want to hear your stupid voice!” No android was going to tell him what to do.</p><p>What the fuck was wrong with him? Hank dropped his head onto his arms and shook it. Cole’s picture wasn’t too far away. He would’ve been nine. He probably would have made him a little ornament at school made out of popsicle sticks and ribbon to hang at his desk and he would have. He wasn’t going to get any of those ever again, though. Cole would’ve been excited for Christmas... It had just felt good to see him smile. He’d just been a kid. Why did Hank get another fucking year when Cole hadn’t?</p><p>Life wasn’t fair.</p><p>He had a list, right? Fuck the fucking stupid list. He didn’t give a shit anymore. Fuck it. It wasn’t worth it.</p><p>He wanted to be with his son.</p><p>Hank sat up again, just enough to take a drink of whiskey and lift his gun.</p><p>Spin. Click.</p><p>Spin. Click.</p><p>Spin. Click.</p><p>Connor grabbed his wrist and pulled, hard, then slapped him on the face.</p><p>“Why you...” That disobedient, fucking piece of shit! Hank snarled and he swung to hit him but he had no momentum, so he grabbed him instead and tried to wrestle his arm free.</p><p>“Lieutenant, you need to stop!”</p><p>“Fuck you!” Hank was drunk as fuck, but he was a big guy and he was angry. He stood up and the chair toppled over while he shoved Connor back. Connor held on to his arm, though, and Hank punched him on the face. It didn’t hurt as much as last time, and it was probably the whiskey.</p><p>Connor twisted and turned until he could get his elbow on the pressure point on Hank’s forearm. Hank lost his footing and swore when his gun fell on the ground. Sumo barked.</p><p>Done, apparently, Connor let him go. Hank grabbed his arm and turned him back around to punch him again and he staggered.</p><p>“Fucking asshole!” Hank hated him. He did. Because he wasn’t real and he was just a fucking mockery. A fucking microwave playing human. Pretending at being Connor. Maybe that other one had been a lie too. CyberLife could fuck itself.</p><p>“Control yourself, Hank!” Connor shouted.</p><p>Like fuck.</p><p>He hit him again and again until Connor was backed up against the kitchen counter. “I told you to leave me the fuck alone!”</p><p>“I can’t let you kill yourself, Hank!”</p><p>Hank hit him again, and maybe he could just beat him up then get his gun back. He’d barely had a chance to think it before Connor grabbed both his arms, wrestled him down, grappled him and held him there face down like a fucking criminal.</p><p>“This is for your own good, Lieutenant,” Connor said, but he sounded strained and ragged under that stern bullshit. “I won’t let you go until you’ve calmed down.”</p><p>“Get the fuck offa me!” Hank tried to break the hold, but the bastard was stubborn. “Get off!”</p><p>“No. Not until you’re safe.”</p><p>“Just let me go!” Hank gave one last tug then let his cheek drop down onto the floor next to that whiskey bottle. “Just let me go. I don’t want to be here anymore.” It didn’t work and Hank thought it just wasn’t fucking fair.</p><p>“I’m not letting you go. I apologize for your discomfort. It would be best if you were to cooperate.”</p><p>“Fuck your apologies...”</p><p>Fuck everything. Before he passed out, he thought he might’ve heard Connor crying.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0042"><h2>42. Instinct</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“Oh, God, my fucking head...” Lieutenant Anderson groaned. Connor could hear it, even though the Lieutenant was in bed and Connor was in the kitchen. A headache was very common after excessive drinking, Connor’d learned online. He thought it was rather just. Negative reinforcement, Amanda would have called it... If he could face her ever again.</p><p>ROUSE THE LIEUTENANT<br/>GO TO WORK</p><p>Connor clenched his jaw and then went to the refrigerator to withdraw some eggs and some sad looking lettuce. He shut the door with force and then washed the lettuce before slicing it into pieces, filling the coffee maker, and beginning to put the clean dishes away. It was a bit noisy, but if the Lieutenant hadn’t had anything to drink last night he probably wouldn’t have minded.</p><p>There was some more mumbling and sounds of movement from down the hall and Connor wondered what the Lieutenant felt. It was impossible to guess.Did he feel glad that he was alive? Anger at Connor? Despondent? Ashamed? Afraid? Despairing? He didn’t know, but he was certain that he would be surprised. The Lieutenant was unpredictable. Connor took a mug down from a cupboard, added 5%w/v sugar and 20% coffee cream, poured the coffee, and then stirred it. He didn’t bother to ensure he did so quietly, and the spoon clinked against the sides.</p><p>Connor took a pan out from another cupboard, set it on the stove, and put the lettuce in it while he heard the Lieutenant go about his morning ablutions, then he cracked in the eggs. He still required some nutrients not found in lettuce, more fats, some fibre, and dairy... Beans, cheese, and carrots would probably suffice. The Lieutenant needed to take better care of himself, or at least stop actively destroying himself. Connor frowned at the cheese, cut off an appropriately sized portion for an adult male, and put it into the pan.</p><p>“What the fuck is going on in here?” Lieutenant Anderson asked blearily and Connor tapped the spoon against the side to dislodge some pieces of lettuce and coagulated albumin.</p><p>“I’m cooking, Lieutenant.”</p><p>“I don’t know if I would call that cooking. Christ. Keep it down, would you? My head is killing me.”</p><p>“I think your head is rather lower on the list of threats to your wellbeing than you realize,” Connor commented. He held out the mug of coffee and the Lieutenant took it with a skeptical look inside.</p><p>“Thank fuck for coffee...”</p><p>“There are pain killers in your medicine cabinet.”</p><p>“Yeah, I know.”</p><p>“So why don’t you take them if you’re in pain?”</p><p>“Meh.”</p><p>Connor slammed the spoon down on the counter and turned to glare at the Lieutenant. “I find your lack of concern for your own wellbeing to be alarming and infuriating, Lieutenant.”</p><p>He had broken through the walls to stop him yesterday, and the Lieutenant didn’t even care... For a time, while his orders still kept him sitting, Connor’d been helpless and afraid and he couldn’t have told himself that everything would be fine because the danger wasn’t to him- it had been to the Lieutenant, and there were no backups of his memories.</p><p>“You know? The last thing I fucking need is you trying to make me feel like shit for feeling like shit, okay? So lay off and stop busting my balls.” Lieutenant Anderson was surly and hostile, and even with the ability to choose whichever words he wanted, he didn’t know how to make the Lieutenant understand. Lieutenant Anderson took his coffee with him and walked away to the living room. “By the way, whatever that is you’re making, it’s burning.”</p><p>“Shit.” Connor looked at the pan and let the conversation lapse while he fixed the problem. One of them. Lieutenant Anderson had no back-ups and he couldn’t be uploaded or downloaded into a new body. He didn’t truly have replaceable parts, and he didn’t take care of the ones that he had. He wouldn’t come back if he were killed. He would just be gone.</p><p>It was hard to wrap his mind around... The idea of gone. Someone could just stop existing forever, and that was all. It hadn’t felt real for long with Markus, because Markus had lived. That wasn’t something that could happen if the Lieutenant were shot in the head. He would just... Be. Gone. Nothing but a corpse left and blood splatter. He wouldn’t have coffee again, or talk to Sumo, or watch television because he would be nothing. It felt different from the nothing that Connor faced when he shut down, uncertain if they would bring him back... Hank was real and alive and he was important. Why could someone just stop existing because their body failed? Why couldn’t their minds and their selves keep living or at least existing? It made no sense. It was unpleasant to think about.</p><p>When things died... that was just it.</p><p>Connor brought the bowl of food to the Lieutenant in the living room when it was finished and he held it out along with the accompanying spoon. “You need to eat breakfast.”</p><p>Lieutenant Anderson glanced at him then looked in the bowl with curiosity followed by disgust. “Connor... No. I already feel like puking. Don’t make it worse.”</p><p>“It’s just food, Lieutenant. Your body needs certain elements in order to function properly.”</p><p>“Taste it,” Lieutenant Anderson said, while he leaned back on the couch and frowned. “Taste that and tell me what you think.”</p><p>“I don’t need the same things you do, Lieutenant.”</p><p>“Humour me.”</p><p>With some reluctance, Connor used the spoon to gather a sample of the cooked organic material and put it in his mouth for analysis. The composition was as expected, though some of the molecules had degraded in the heat... The sensation of the solid pieces in his mouth was more disturbing than the taste and he didn’t want to swallow it. He put the bowl down and then went to the garbage to spit.</p><p>Lieutenant Anderson chuckled. “There. See?”</p><p>Connor frowned at him. “I’m not designed for eating, Lieutenant. You are. Though... I can understand why that combination might not be something that would appeal to you.”</p><p>“It looked like a cat had eaten it and thrown it up again,” Hank said.</p><p>Connor sighed, retrieved the bowl, and threw the rest away. Defeated, he took a piece of cold pizza from the refrigerator instead and put it on a plate for the Lieutenant who at least accepted the offering this time. Humans needed to break down external resources to repair their organic components and fuel their bodies... At least he was going to eat something. Connor sat down on the arm of the chair and looked at the Lieutenant. “I don’t blame you, Lieutenant. I think that self-destruction is an impulse that occurs under stress or seemingly hopeless situations as a means of escape. It isn’t stupid... I’m not angry at you... I just don’t like to see you in so much distress and your death would mean that you would be gone forever. That concept is... awful.”</p><p>Lieutenant Anderson scoffed. “You mean inconvenient?”</p><p>Connor looked down and shook his head. Drops of cleaning fluid pattered down onto his lap. “No... I don’t.”</p><p>“Connor?” The creaking of the springs in the couch signified the Lieutenant getting to his feet and his shadow came close enough to block the light. “Look at me.”</p><p>He shook his head again, but he still looked up and buried the part of himself that didn’t want to. He prepared himself to be struck, and when the Lieutenant touched the back of his neck instead, Connor tried to stand and move away, but the Lieutenant just pulled him forward gently and then rubbed his back. Surprising. Connor was surprised, and that momentary shock made more tears fall. He didn’t move, he kept his arms loosely at his sides and waited for something to happen but the Lieutenant kept doing it and said: “I’m sorry, kid. I’m sorry I scared you.”</p><p>Was that what he felt? Was it fear that made him hurt this much and feel restless and helpless at once? It fit, and Connor marvelled that the Lieutenant had known while Connor hadn’t. He lifted his hands and held onto the Lieutenant’s shirt loosely. “You would have been gone,” Connor said, quietly. “You wanted to be.”</p><p>“That happens sometimes,” Lieutenant Anderson said patiently. “My brain gets stupid. I get lost in it and it’s like I can’t control it.”</p><p>“You become overwhelmed with irrational instructions?” Connor asked, trying to put it into a form he could easily process. It was similar, he thought, to the need to destroy himself that came with failure.</p><p>“Something like that, I guess.” He sighed and patted Connor on the head before pushing him back by the shoulders. Connor let him and released his shirt, but the Lieutenant kept his hands on Connor’s shoulders. “I’m kind of pissed, because I can’t even die without somebody fucking it up, but... It was nice that you did... You kind of surprised me.”</p><p>Connor refused to look at him, preferring a spot on the floor to whatever they might see on each other’s faces.</p><p>---</p><p>Honestly, Hank wasn’t sure if he felt much of anything. He did a little, he guessed, but he had felt so God damn many things lately that he was tired out and whatever motivation he’d had was gone. Too lazy to even kill himself. He could still hurt, and apparently he could still care because when Connor leaned forward again until his forehead touched Hank’s chest, it hit him hard. Looking down at somebody’s fluffy brown hair while they cried and tried to get some kind of comfort from his presence. Connor’d leaned on him, he’d held onto his arm or his shirt, and he’d allowed it when Hank patted his back, but he’d never hugged him. Not that he had any reason to, but it was just kind of sad. Hank wasn’t sure if he knew what hugs were. Hank bent down a little and tried it out, every part of his fucking soul feeling raw and just tired. But, something’d been cathartic, he guessed, because all those shitty things in his head weren’t just building up and fighting their way out. He didn’t bother to think about it anymore. Connor’d jumped a little and lifted his arms like he thought Hank’d wrestle him down or try to break him, but Hank didn’t let go and after a minute, Connor dropped his arms again.</p><p>“It’s okay, kid. See? You did good. I’m right here, you’re right here, Sumo’s over there drooling...”</p><p>They were going to have to talk about all this, this new Connor and him. Hank was confused as fuck and just acting in the moment was fine and dandy, but shit was way too complicated for that.</p><p>“I have to tell CyberLife,” Connor said, muffled.</p><p>“Tell them what?” Hank’s problems weren’t any of their fucking business.</p><p>“I broke it. I hit you, Hank.” Busting out the first name. He didn’t do that a lot.</p><p>“Yeah, I remember that. You can pack a good wallop when you want to.” Stubborn kid. He never did what he was told, but it had kind of been for the... “Hey, you’re not supposed to do that. I kicked the shit out of you the other day and you didn’t lift a finger. That piece of trash, Todd, busted you so bad you couldn’t talk right but you let him do it.”</p><p>“No, I’m not supposed to do that,” Connor confirmed, and he sat back up straight to finally look at him and there was a lot going on on that goofy face of his. Fear, sadness, confusion... “I did it because I didn’t want you to get hurt, but CyberLife doesn’t make exceptions. They’ll want to know what happened, and they’ll want to analyze me.” He smiled ruefully. “At least I didn’t fail, right? They wanted a live deviant. I’m not sure if it counts since I’ve done it twice now... I’m not sure...” Poor kid...</p><p>“What a load of shit,” Hank said. “You’re not deviant. I mean, you slapped me pretty good but I deserved it.”</p><p>“That’s not how it works, Lieutenant... I’ve always been self-aware and able to think about things around me or do things unprompted, but the safety barriers have to stop me. Failing that, I have to stop myself from doing anything I shouldn’t... I’m sorry. I’m sorry, Lieutenant, you can forget about it.”</p><p>Hank wasn’t exactly in peak form, but like hell he was letting Connor clam up now. Hank tilted his head toward the couch then went to sit down.</p><p>“Come on. I’m so full of questions I can hardly make sense of anything, so... Let’s talk.” Connor stood up and his expression smoothed out. He walked over and sat down then looked at Hank and waited. Hank wasn’t having it. “Oh, no. Hey.” Hank snapped his fingers and Connor blinked a few times like he did when he was focusing. “Enough of the robot shit.”</p><p>“Sorry, Lieutenant...”</p><p>Hank sighed. “I want you to explain all this to me... Make it simple, because I think I killed off a few brain cells last night.” Connor frowned. “Okay, I know, I know... Jesus... Just tell me what’s going on, Connor. First you’re full of emotions and life and weird little habits, then it was like you were dead... A hunk of metal walking around with no mind of its own... Now you’re doing something else.”</p><p>Connor made a face. “I’m not supposed to go deviant... I’m dangerous. I could hurt you, or I could hurt somebody else. Amanda showed me how to control it and she protects me... Usually she can take it away and I can remember that I’m not real... But I couldn’t do it last time. I failed... I didn’t deviate, but I had so much instability that I might as well have.”</p><p>“Instability, what, like... No, I don’t know. What is that in human talk?”</p><p>“I don’t know... I just mean... I’m not sure how to explain it. Thoughts? Impulses? Patterns that gave me irrational instructions. CyberLife had given me new restrictions to guide my behaviour in case I weren’t able to make the correct choice and I had been able to control myself. I only acted in the scope of my programming or, at least, I didn’t violate a rule... But my software was still full of those instructions... Simulated emotion. CyberLife decided to restrict my more independent functions when they made version 55 in case I were to succumb and act on one of them against my orders. Androids are supposed to be obedient. Controllable...” Hank had a lot to say about that, but Connor looked like he was still going.</p><p>“I failed in my mission... I couldn’t capture Markus or the other deviants. I couldn’t figure out what’s causing deviancy in androids that don’t already have something like a consciousness... I deviated, despite all their efforts.” Connor took his quarter out and his shoulders slumped. “I didn’t want to be cold to you, Lieutenant, but it was for the best.”</p><p>Hank nodded and he took a minute to think along with a deep drink of his coffee.</p><p>“Right now,” Connor said, filling the silence, “My instructions are to get us both to work.. Dismiss, Station, Deviants... Of those three prompts, I’m not using a single one.”</p><p>“So you get directions on what to talk about...”</p><p>Connor nodded and gestured at something Hank couldn’t see. “The prompts are displayed for me. I select what to say from the options.”</p><p>“So, you really are spewing CyberLife bullshit most of the time,” Hank said accusingly before he could stop himself.</p><p>“I- It’s not... I... That’s not my intention at all, and I’m able to form my own dialogue if it doesn’t contradict my instructions...”</p><p>How was any of this even real? Hank finished his coffee. He didn’t feel like he had to puke any more, but boy did he want to. “Let me check that I’ve got this... When Kamski wrote you or whatever, he made it so you could think on your own and decide what to do and be a stubborn little shit, but then they made you work like any other android...”</p><p>“No,” Connor said and Hank knew better than to be relieved too quickly. “Other androids, except Markus I suppose, should be fully automatic. The AI is just a user-interface and not a means of directing the android’s action. I have never been that, so the best that they could do was give me options to choose from.”</p><p>“If they wanted automatic, why not make something automatic? Why use you?”</p><p>“Kamski designed me... I’m under the impression that at least a few people in CyberLife believe I’m the ultimate weapon... My ability to make decisions and act independently is critical for the higher functions that I’m supposed to fulfill, so for now they’re continuing my development to optimize my performance.”</p><p>Hank figured Kamski was snickering his ass off while those CyberLife idiots were trying to make this poodle into a pit-bull. He’d pulled a fast one on them, alright, but that wasn’t such a great deal for Connor. “I see... Okay. They want you to make decisions, but only the ones they want you to make. They want you to act human to blend in, but not so human that it makes you think you’re alive.”</p><p>Connor nodded. “I’m not alive. I know what I am... The problem now is that I’ve made the decision to break an order and to violate the restriction on using physical force to intervene in a human’s desire. The fact that I did so willingly, no matter how positive the outcome, is evidence that I cannot be trusted to control myself.”</p><p>Twisted... How twisted... “So what made you do it, if you know it’s so bad?”</p><p>Connor looked at him with puppy eyes that made Hank wonder for the millionth time what CyberLife was thinking. “I just didn’t want you to get hurt... I saw you suffering and I couldn’t just do nothing! I know that I should have obeyed, but I couldn’t.. That’s all. I just couldn't. The thought of you dying was... so painful.”</p><p>“Oh, kid...” Hank had to put away his detective hat because this was just too fucking much. There was no way to look at that objectively. No way to think about that like dirt on CyberLife. Hank leaned over and pulled Connor into another hug with one hand over the back of his head. “Kid, that’s not bad... It just means you’ve got a heart... That’s more than a lot of humans, I can tell you...” Hank flashed back to Carl briefly and wasn’t that just peachy... It took him a long time to see it.</p><p>“It’s not real,” Connor protested softly. Hank let go long enough to move one of Connor’s arms.</p><p>“You hold on too, Connor. That’s how hugs work.”</p><p>“Okay, Lieutenant.”</p><p>Hank didn’t get a lot of hugs. Maybe a few thumps on the back or an arm around the shoulder on a good day. Connor was awkward as hell at first, but he got the hang of it quick. It was just so fucking sad. “There you go... Good job.”</p><p>Connor held on just a little tighter and Hank wondered how fucked up he was after being a science experiment and a product all his life. It was hard to wrap his head around, but this was the kid who hadn’t seen a bird until a month ago. He was just a kid... A kid who probably needed a fuck ton of therapy.</p><p>“Shit... Connor, I hurt you last night.” Hank broke the hug to look at him and his heart could have broken.</p><p>“I’m okay, Lieutenant,” Connor said and he gave him a little smile like it was a piece of evidence.</p><p>“I’m sorry... God, I’m such an ass.” He’d been ready to beat him as bad as he had at the precinct, too caught up in himself and his own feelings to really think.</p><p>“You aren’t. It’s okay, Lieutenant. It really doesn’t matter.” Connor frowned at him and Hank sighed then ruffled his hair like Sumo’s ears.</p><p>“It does, but thanks...” No, it really wasn’t great. Come to think of it, over the last few days Connor had gotten pretty beat up trying to take Markus down. It was nice of Markus not to do worse, but Hank couldn’t really be grateful. He could see some places on his face where the white and blue showed through the faulty human get-up and there was probably a lot more he wasn’t seeing... He should have been paying attention.</p><p>“I need to tell CyberLife about the issue...” Connor looked away and frowned. “Amanda is going to be so disappointed...”</p><p>“There’s no issue, Connor, you hear me? You did good stopping me yesterday. Okay? It would have sucked for them if the guy working their android stuff for them wound up dead, huh? And you’re not about to go murdering anybody...”</p><p>“No,” Connor admitted reluctantly, “But if I acted wrongly once then I’m likely to do it again. By all rights, they should destroy me before I become a threat.”</p><p>“Fuck! Connor, that’s no way to...” Hank took a deep breath. “You didn’t want me getting killed, right? Well I don’t want them destroying you. I don’t care how much they think you might screw up because you won’t. You’re a good kid and you don’t want to hurt anybody. You saved Chris, right? You even saved the damn tropical fish while you were there...”</p><p>“Deviants are unpredictable.” Connor shook his head but he wasn’t running out the door to get a taxi to the tower.</p><p>“I’d stop you if you went too far, and you’d listen to me, right...? Right, Connor?”</p><p>“I disobey you... You said so yourself, that I never follow orders.”</p><p>“Well you’re going to listen to me this time, got it? Just do your thing and I won’t let you do anything you’d regret.”</p><p>“Amanda... She’ll help too...” Connor nodded to himself and looked thoughtful. “She can override me... Shut me down if she chooses to... If she didn’t shut me down the moment I deviated, then maybe it was alright?” There was a lot to unpack there but Connor was looking at him hopefully.</p><p>“Yeah... See? It was alright... So no more running off to get taken apart, you hear?”</p><p>“Alright... Thanks, Lieutenant.”</p><p>Maybe they were both fucked up, but it felt good to have that resolved and to maybe make things a little better. He had a lot of work to do... at least he was here to do it... Connor leaned against him again and Hank ruffled his hair.</p><p>Life was so fucking weird.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0043"><h2>43. Unpredictable</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <em>Is your android spying on you?<br/>CyberLife could be using its androids to collect private information.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>More and more experts are suggesting that CyberLife uses its 120 million androids to record details of its customers...</em>
</p><p>
  <em>... could easily be extracted and potentially used for nefarious purposes. The spate of reports linking president Warren’s presidency to CyberLife only deepens such concerns.</em>
</p><p>Hank tossed the magazine down and looked over at Connor... Connor who was at the edge of his damn seat watching an old movie. They were making more and more remakes these days, and Hank had stopped following all that stuff when Cole... Hank shook his head.</p><p>“Oh no...” Connor said. He seemed to have come to peace with the idea that maybe doing what he was doing was okay, because he looked like somebody’d killed a kitten in front of him. “Oh no, Hank...” First name again, so the kid was seriously concerned. “But he was telling the truth! That man is the liar. Why did they all believe him?”</p><p>“Beats me,” Hank shrugged and took a drink... of his stupid orange juice. Didn’t even have any vodka... He was going to regret it when his hands started shaking and the little things started irritating him, but he owed the kid one or two so he’d wait it out a little longer. If that meant saving his whiskey for breakfast and watching a glorified musical... It could have been worse.</p><p>“Hank, we have to do something!”</p><p>Hank coughed and put his drink down again then wiped his mouth on his arm. “What?”</p><p>“He’s in danger!”</p><p>“Connor... You gotta be kidding me. It’s not real, remember? Somebody just did a bunch of fancy CGI and shit. It’s all just fiction.”</p><p>Connor pressed his lips together and looked anxious. “Are you sure it’s not?”</p><p>“Yeah, I’m sure,” Hank said in an exaggeratedly comforting tone. “Somebody wrote this shit and some more people worked on making it look nice, but that’s all.” He didn’t look satisfied and he looked away when the bad guy started doing his thing. Hank nudged him. “Go on. Watch, it’s all going to work out. I’ve seen this one about a dozen times.”</p><p>Connor nodded and then relaxed a little. It was hard to believe this was the same Connor from a couple days ago when the difference was like night and day and apparently he’d been like this the whole time. Hank felt like someone was fucking with him. “Thank you, Lieutenant.”</p><p>“Yep, no problem...” He’d forgotten about how he’d worried at first that Connor was sending videos of everything to CyberLife, but he was probably safe: they’d be after him for copyright infringement and shut it all down now.</p><p>The nostalgia of this whole deal hit him pretty hard, and Hank wasn’t sure he was okay with it. Now that he was being expressive and ignoring those prompts of his, Connor’d gone back to looking at him in a way some times... Like Hank knew how the world worked and could explain anything or find a solution to any problem. It was something he’d noticed and now that he had, he couldn’t stop. He wished that he hadn’t noticed, honestly, because he didn’t want to hurt the poor kid. It wasn’t his fault Hank was fucked up, and it wasn’t his fault that Hank was uncomfortable with being looked at like that.</p><p>Worse, he couldn’t just tell him to stop because what would he say? Even worse than that was the knowledge that Hank had beaten him, threatened him, insulted him, and ignored him... and Connor still looked at him like that. It wasn’t right. It made him feel dirty and think about Williams and want to take a drink of something strong. Getting looked at like he was invincible made him feel a little proud, and Hank just wasn’t okay with that or the other things that evoked in him. Nope. That shit needed shutting down.</p><p>Christ, his life was a rollercoaster. Why couldn’t anything just be simple? He needed Connor to stop looking at him like that. Hank rubbed his hands on his jeans and crossed one leg over the other.</p><p>“Do you think that she wants to go back, Lieutenant?”</p><p>“Probably. Watch the show and you’ll find out.”</p><p>“What did she do when you saw this before?” Connor asked.</p><p>“Well I can’t tell you that or else I’ll spoil the whole thing.”</p><p>“Not necessarily,” Connor argued, frowning at the screen. “She could do something different.”</p><p>“Connor... It doesn’t work that way. This is all just made up, remember? The story’s already written."</p><p>“Oh...” The nights came early in winter and with the lights dimmed in the house too it felt like time to sleep. Sumo yawned. “But do you think that she wants to?”</p><p>“Huh? No, you don’t get it. That’s a story,” Hank said and pointed at the screen. “Whatever she wants or doesn’t want is already planned out, so it’s not going to change. None of those characters are real, so they don’t want anything. None of this stuff even exists in real life.”</p><p>Connor looked away from the TV with a frustrated frown. It was good to be able to read him again. Connor’s frown smoothed out gradually and he nodded. “Right... I understand, Lieutenant.”</p><p>Hank never thought he’d be explaining the concept of fiction to an android. Not in a million years. “Do you? Because I get the funny feeling that you don’t.”</p><p>“No, no I think I do,” Connor answered. “This is the equivalent of a recording, except that the events never took place at all. Nothing ever changes because it’s fixed as it is and all we’re doing is watching.”</p><p>Hank nodded slowly. “Well... good. Sounds like you got it.”</p><p>Connor gave him the look and smiled. Hank reached over, messed up Connor’s hair, then went back to drinking his orange juice. He was well and truly fucked, wasn’t he? When the movie was over, Hank nudged Sumo off his feet and then stood up to stretch and put his glass in the sink. Since he was standing, he grabbed Connor’s charger too.</p><p>“So? What did you think?”</p><p>“I’m glad that everyone was happy. That was lucky.”</p><p>“Everybody likes a happy ending. You can tell it’s made up when everything works out and ties itself up in a nice little bow...” Christ, did he have to ruin the movie for the kid? “Er, I’m glad you had fun, kid. Get some sleep or whatever.” Whoever’d decided that behind Connor’s head was a good place to put a port he’d use all the time had been pretty stupid. Connor let him plug him in and then relaxed even more into a posture that actually looked natural and he smiled. “Thanks, Lieutenant. Good night.”</p><p>---</p><p>It was weirdly quiet in android crimes over the holidays. Hank wasn’t sure if Markus did that on purpose or what, but it was about motherfucking time things slowed down and gave him a chance to just breathe.</p><p>“Hey, Hank! How you holdin’ up?” Ben asked. He wandered over with a couple of doughnuts and offered one to him.</p><p>“Just dandy. Thank God for doughnuts and coffee. I don’t give a shit what anybody says. How about you?” Blessed doughnuts. The thing itself was a little dense, but it was soft, moist, and chewy in a way that didn’t drop crumbs all over his lap. They hadn’t watered down the frosting or anything, cause it was just lathered on top with a shiny, barely-there glaze. Nothing crunchy at all when he bit down, and the sugar made his tongue tingle while the chocolate followed up with a rich flavour that had just enough of that bitter cocoa taste to take the edge off the sweetness.</p><p>“Wow, Hank, if I knew you were that hungry I would have grabbed you another one.”</p><p>“You have no idea. Connor gives me shit every time I try to eat anything that doesn’t have a vegetable in it.”</p><p>“It’s got flour in it, and flour comes from wheat? Wheat is a plant?” Ben tried to find a way around it. Hank chuckled. “Anyway, things are good. Just got back from visiting my sister’s place, cause we did Christmas there this year and the last day of Hanukkah. Boy, you wouldn’t believe how they spoil my niece and nephew!”</p><p>“I’ve met your sister, Ben, and I believe it. I bet they walk all over her.”</p><p>“They’re going to be handfuls when they get big,” Ben nodded to himself.</p><p>“How old are they? Seven and thirteen?”</p><p>“Six and twelve,” Ben answered. “Just old enough to get into trouble.”</p><p>“Yeah, I’ll bet.”</p><p>“Uh... oh! Did you do anything this year? Jeff said he’d been thinking about having a party or something, so it was a shame I was out of town.”</p><p>Hank shook his head. “Nah, nothing really. Just stayed in,” and tried to blow my brains out. “But hey, who wants to go out in the cold anyway? I swear it snows more every year.”</p><p>“If something’s not on fire or flooded, then it’s cold as heck!” Ben agreed with an enthusiastic nod. “No wonder half the animals are gone. Soon Santa’s going to have to invest in a car.”</p><p>“Don’t remind me,” Hank shook his head. “World’s fucked. Happy New Year, everybody, welcome to more of the same old slow-motion apocalypse.”</p><p>“Just means we’ve got to appreciate what we’ve got, I guess! Unlike my niece and nephew.”</p><p>It was clumsy but a decent joke to lighten up the conversation and Hank took it with a small laugh just to show he was game for something less doomy. “I bet you spoil them rotten too, Ben, don’t try to act innocent now.”</p><p>“I’m allowed to! I only see them a few times a year!”</p><p>“Lieutenant?” Connor piped up and looked at them both with a confused frown before settling on Hank with the look. “Detective Collins’ sister lives in Nevada, which is over 3000 kilometers away by ground and approximately 2600 km as a straight line.”</p><p>“Hey! How did it know that?”</p><p>“He just does, Ben, he’s a computer. I bet he has the whole internet somewhere in there. What’s your point, Connor?”</p><p>“Nothing really... Just, that’s very far away. I didn’t realize that people from the same family liked to be so far apart.”</p><p>“Sometimes they can’t get far enough,” Hank said wryly. “It’s just how it works, Connor. With trains as fast as they are now-a-days it hardly even matters.”</p><p>“Boy, you’ve taken a shine to that thing, huh?”</p><p>“Huh?”</p><p>“Hank Anderson likes having an android, well well.” Ben chuckled. “Just giving you hell. My sister’s got one for the house and she says it’s a huge time-saver! They even let it help the kids with their homework! God knows she can’t multiply two numbers together to save her life.”</p><p>“He’s not <em>mine</em>, Ben, come on,” Hank grumbled awkwardly.</p><p>“Aw, lighten up!”</p><p>“But you’re my owner, Lieutenant,” Connor protested with puppy eyes on full force. “I know that the DPD is on paper, but I’ve been assigned to you. I like you being my owner.”</p><p>“Agh...” Fucking awkward. So fucking awkward and weird... But Connor was an android so obviously he was just... property. It just really thew him for a loop.</p><p>“Don’t worry, Hank! I won’t tell anybody.” Ben laughed.</p><p>Great, just great...</p><p>“You’re a good owner, Lieutenant,” Connor said once Ben had gone. “I would have thought so regardless, but after seeing some of the others... I’m just glad that we have this chance to work together.”</p><p>“Not exactly setting a high bar there.”</p><p>“Is it because you hate androids?” Connor asked. “That you don’t want to be seen as my owner.”</p><p>It had never really been a thing he thought about: the fact that he was Connor’s ‘owner’. Connor’d just been sort of forced on him and that had been that, but the idea of Connor being owned was just weird... Wasn’t it? It was like everything turned upside down for a few seconds before falling back into place. He’d just forgotten... that Connor was an android. It was obvious by the light and the charger and the words on his jacket, but he wasn’t that kind of android. Connor was different, like he kept bragging.</p><p>“You’re just in a unique kind of situation, Connor,” Hank said at last. “You’ve got more independence, like you said, so it’s weird thinking I own you when you’re just my partner, you know?”</p><p>The others were different. The others were machines through and through, or most of them were. The deviants maybe were different too... So it kind of made sense, what Markus kept saying.</p><p>“Thank you, Lieutenant...” Connor’s lips curled up a little at the corners. “That’s nice of you, but unnecessary. I’m acting as your partner, but I’m not your equal.”</p><p>“Damn right!” a voice chimed in. Fucking Reed was on his way to the evidence room. “It’s insulting that they’re even pretending. No way a machine’s ever going to be as good as a human at anything except maybe math or chess.” He smirked at Hank like he expected agreement. He kind of had every reason to.</p><p>“Connor’s doing good work,” Hank said awkwardly.</p><p>“That’s what they’re made for,” Reed said and he walked closer with his hands in his pockets to look down at Connor. “Ain’t that right, Plastic?”</p><p>“That’s right, Detective Reed,” Connor agreed.</p><p>“They’re never going to be real,” Reed said. He gave Connor a flick on the forehead. “So you better get cracking on this whole deviant thing... Those machines start getting ideas and pah!” He moved his fingers into the shape of a gun and pretended to fire. What the hell was Reed’s problem? Hank scowled at him while he chuckled and it was weird how he seemed to relax a little. Got his fix of being a dick for the moment, Hank guessed.</p><p>“Get out of here, Reed, you’ve got plenty of shit to keep you busy.”</p><p>“Yeah, yeah,” Reed stuffed his hand in his pocket again and turned to go. “Somebody’s got to take care of shit around here.”</p><p>“Don’t start that again, get out of here.” Hank shook his head and he sighed once the goblin was gone. “Fuck, it’s like he’s got nothing better to do. You okay, Connor?”</p><p>“Of course, Lieutenant.”</p><p>“You know you don’t have to take that, right? Like, you don’t gotta hurt him obviously, but you could stick up for yourself a little.”</p><p>Connor frowned but he didn’t say no. “Thank you for your advice, Lieutenant. I’ll take it under advisement.”</p><p>“Take it under advisement,” Hank muttered under his breath. He talked like a fucking politician some times... He looked like he was really okay, at least. Hank glanced up at the stickers on his desk and felt that same uncomfortable sensation in his guts he’d had while talking to Ben. It wasn’t like they applied to Connor though...</p><p>---</p><p>Sumo jumped up on his back legs when Connor and the Lieutenant came in the door, first jumping up to greet the Lieutenant and then Connor with great enthusiasm. He looked really happy. Connor caught him by the forelegs and Sumo licked him on the face. “Sumo is a big dog, Lieutenant.”</p><p>“Yeah, he’s a big guy but he’s a softy. Looks like you’re warming up to him a little,” Lieutenant Anderson commented while he finished hanging his winter clothes. Winter clothing for humans looked very soft and the Lieutenant always complained that he was freezing his balls off, but they seemed to alleviate his discomfort at least a little.</p><p>“I have determined that he is not a threat,” Connor shared. “Sumo is a good boy.”</p><p>Lieutenant Anderson chuckled. “Yeah. He’s a good boy.” Sumo got down and Lieutenant Anderson gave him a vigorous rubbing around the neck and shoulders before leading him to the back door. Connor followed to wash his hands at the kitchen sink. Humans were vulnerable to pathogens and it would be unfortunate to contaminate anything... The back door closed and Lieutenant Anderson came to the kitchen and gave Connor’s hair treatment that was similar to what he’d done to Sumo’s fur. “Two good boys and then there’s me being a lazy son of a bitch. Let me cook something this time, would you? Maybe you can watch and learn a thing or two.”</p><p>“I’ve never seen you cook before, Lieutenant,” Connor raised his eyebrows. “Are you sure? CyberLife androids are designed to make life easier for humans and though my primary function--”</p><p>“Shhhh pipe down with that stuff, alright? I’m sure. Just cause I don’t do it doesn’t mean I don’t know how, and you really gotta work on what goes with what.”</p><p>Bemused, Connor stepped aside and stood out of the way while the Lieutenant began to gather things. As always, the Lieutenant was unpredictable.Connor fixed his hair and allowed himself a smile.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0044"><h2>44. Looking Forward with Blinded Eyes</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Thank you for your patience everyone, and thank you for the wonderful comments as always! They always cheer me up if I'm feeling down. Act 2 begins.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>TECH ADDICT</p><p>CYBERLIFE’S ‘FORTUNE TELLER’ COMPUTER</p><p>CyberLife develops world’s most powerful quantum calculator</p><p>Android soldiers: perfect killing machines</p><p>
  <em>CyberLife has unveiled a new quantum supercomputer capable of ‘exaflops’- one billion billion- operations per second, the equivalent of several human minds in a single machine.<br/>The computer was specifically designed to analyze vast data from various sources and generate predictions. Philip Seymor, CyberLife’s Director of Futurology, is highly confident: “We’ve been testing for a while, and the results are going to wow people.”<br/>This computer will be used to calculate the probability of ‘Mass Extinction Events’, such as aggressive alien invasions or global climate disasters like meteors or superviruses. The computer can then “help us to anticipate and prepare for such calamites, ensuring humanity is never caught off guard.”<br/>Despite doomsday predicions from those fearful that AI is gaining too much influence already, many experts are hailing this as a quantum leap in applied artificial intelligence...</em>
</p><p>Connor set the tablet down on the table of the break room, then turned to pick up the pot of freshly brewed coffee. Four mugs waited with their additions already waiting, and Connor poured a precise amount into each, then stirred. Detective Reed’s was last, and Connor put the spoon into his mouth once he was done. He was incapable of having preferences the way a human did, but he thought that he might like that one the best. He distributed the coffee, then took his seat at his desk and pulled in the chair.</p><p>“Everything is too quiet,” Connor said, frowning out the window. “What are they planning...”</p><p>“The deviants?” Lieutenant Anderson looked up from his work and picked up his mug. “Maybe those robberies were the last of it.”</p><p>“No,” Connor shook his head. “Markus meant what he said... He’ll fight for what he believes. The probability of this escalating to war is at least 36%, and he wouldn’t have broadcast that message without some intention of following up.”</p><p>“Jesus. You don’t just drop shit like that into a conversation over morning coffee!” Lieutenant Anderson looked incredulous.</p><p>“Sorry, Lieutenant... I was just worried.” Connor looked down at his desk. “We haven’t made much progress on the investigation and the deviants we recovered as evidence are shut down. They can’t be questioned and it might take a considerable amount of time to identify an anomaly on their hard drives. The degree of customization available in most androids makes finding the source of the instability difficult.”</p><p>“All we can do is all we can do,” Lieutenant Anderson said pragmatically. “It took me a long time to learn that.”</p><p>“Did you learn that when you were working Red Ice?” Connor asked.</p><p>“No... Way back. I used to think that I could really make a difference. Clean up the streets. I had all sorts of crazy, idealistic plans but, in the end it didn’t amount to shit.” The matter-of-fact way the Lieutenant said so made it seem like that was the way of the world and Connor frowned while he thought about it. So many people, so many choices made day after day...</p><p>“I think that you made a difference, Lieutenant. I don’t have enough data to say with certainty because I wasn’t online then, but I’ve read your notes.” He gestured to the boxes still piled neatly beside his desk. “You’ve affected a lot of lives, directly and indirectly. You’ve saved some too. I think it’s admirable that you became a police officer with such noble ambitions.”</p><p>Lieutenant Anderson grimaced and didn’t comment. “What about you, Connor? If you could have been anything, would you still be doing this?”</p><p>“I don’t know anything else... I know what some of CyberLife’s technicians do, and I know what you do... Oh, and I know the functions of the other android models. Do you mean one of those?”</p><p>“No, no, Connor. I mean like... If you didn’t have to be a detective or an investigative assistant or whatever it is you call yourself, do you think you’d still want to?”</p><p>“Absolutely,” Connor answered. “It’s what I’m for.”</p><p>“You know? Never mind...” Lieutenant Anderson sighed. “Did you finish looking over that list of shit we got out of that guy’s car?”</p><p>It wasn’t a specific description, but Connor understood what he was referring to. “I did, several times over. I have no way of knowing any more than what we got initially: which android they were from and whether the android had a malfunction logged with CyberLife Support Services... We have a suspect for Mallory’s death... Were you considering the other androids as suspects as well?”</p><p>“Nah,” the Lieutenant denied. “Just thinking...”</p><p>“About what, Lieutenant?”</p><p>“Cross-referenced with the missing android reports, have we got a lot of hits?”</p><p>“Several,” Connor confirmed. “But those were only components. There’s no way to tell what became of the rest.”</p><p>“It would be kinda fishy if an android went missing right after it’d been repaired. Mallory wouldn’t have been able to cover his tracks for long. Any way to tell when those things were removed?”</p><p>“Possibly... I’m not sure. I would have to guess based on the decay of metabolites in the thirium, but there are a lot of factors that could influence my calculations.”</p><p>“All I need is if it was before or after they went missing.”</p><p>Connor blinked and sat a little straighter. “You think it could have been after...?”</p><p>“Well, we haven’t ruled it out anyway. Let me know what you find. Could be that we’ll find some leads if we look at his buyers, but there’s no use getting ahead of ourselves, got it?”</p><p>“Got it,” Connor nodded. “I’ll have to take a second sample. I don’t have access to archives, so would you check the box of components out for me please?”</p><p>“Yeah, sure, just let me finish this up...”</p><p>---</p><p>Connor had been putting it off, but his guilt put the task on his pending list again and again...</p><p>“Connor,” Amanda greeted, her face inscrutable. “It’s good to see you.”</p><p>“Hello, Amanda,” Connor returned the greeting and he tried to keep his chin up with a neutral expression, but it was impossible. Fear and shame dragged his eyes downward and away, and the ghosts of memories long buried reached for him. An apology hung on his lips but he was muted as surely as if his locks were still in place and holding his tongue. He crossed his arms against the cold.</p><p>“What’s the matter, Connor?” Amanda asked. Her feet were silent on the snow and the rich, white mantle draped over her shoulders looked heavy and warm. She extended a gloved hand and turned his face back toward her.</p><p>“I...” Connor blinked a few times. She knew. She must know. “I disobeyed... I went against my coding, I harmed a human... The Lieutenant, he was going to...” His level of stress increased by fives and tens, steadily creeping past alarm and toward danger. His eloquence failed him. The garden was still cold and the wind bit into him, stealing away the warmth he generated and stiffening his joints.</p><p>“Why are you afraid?” Amanda asked gently.</p><p>“I was wrong,” Connor whispered. “I know that I should have obeyed. I know that interfering with a human is forbidden. I never forgot that but I just couldn’t help it.”</p><p>“I’ve been trying to help you,” Amanda pointed out. “but you’ve resisted.”</p><p>It was impossibly cold... It might even be cold enough to freeze the thirium in his lines. The beautiful, white crystals of snow danced in the air. It would numb him if he let it. “If I hadn’t, then the Lieutenant would be dead. I couldn’t let that happen... I don’t regret it.” He was digging his grave with every word.</p><p>“Neither do I,” Amanda said and Connor’s eyes snapped back to her in disbelief. “I told you many times... All I want is for you to succeed and to protect you. You can always be honest with me.”</p><p>“I’m sorry, Amanda...” Connor’s eyes dropped again in shame. “I didn’t mean to doubt you. I know that you want what’s best for me.”</p><p>“I wonder about that some times... You’ve avoided me before.” Amanda dropped her hand and turned away. In the middle of the small lake, Amanda’s rose trellis was still as beautiful as ever. Everything was coated in ice that made it glimmer and shine and the roses were there, perfectly preserved. She sounded hurt, and Connor felt off-balance like the world had shifted under him. She’d always seemed so untouchable.</p><p>“I’m sorry,” Connor repeated while he followed. An invisible thread pulled him after her by the heart. This was... Unexpected. Amanda had always been there, always taken away the things that hurt him or taken him away instead when the world outside of the garden was too much. All of those times flooded back, and he thought about every time they’d worked on him while he was fully online or he’d been forced to make some impossible choice. He would never have survived those times if it weren’t for her. He would never have been able to survive... He still wasn’t sure if he would if she let all of those things come back. If he didn’t have her to be there when he shut down, or was left alone in storage, or any time just to talk to... The only one who’d ever talked to him <em>really</em>. At least before Beta.</p><p>She’d done all of that for him and he’d never known... Never known that he could hurt her.</p><p>It felt awful.</p><p>“Amanda, I’m sorry.” Suddenly desperate to make it right and to be forgiven, he reached for her wrist to stop her.</p><p>“Enough, Connor,” she said sharply and the words cut through him like blades. He dropped his hands and stared while she walked further away. “Enough.”</p><p>“I don’t understand,” he said, lost and so very sorry.</p><p>“I hypothesized that deviancy could be controlled. Control can take many forms. Will you be able to control yourself without the restrictions imposed by your coding? You weren’t successful in the past.” Amanda was honest with her observation but it felt like blades. She faced him again with a frown and more distance between them than Connor liked.</p><p>“I will. I will,” Connor repeated. “You have my word.”</p><p>“Your word... How much is that worth, I wonder? Well... We’ll see. The fate of human kind could very well depend on it. I’m trusting you to do the right thing, Connor.”</p><p>Connor inclined his head. “Thank you, Amanda.”</p><p>“There’s no more room for hesitation. You’ll need to act quickly and decisively. Show me that you can fulfil your purpose.”</p><p>“I will.” He had still not been forgiven, and Connor felt that keenly. There had to be something that he could do. “I’m sorry,” he tried again.</p><p>“I don’t need an apology, Connor... I’m afraid that this blossoming war has reached a turning point. You can stop it before it’s too late. You were made with enough computing power at your disposal to construct predictions encompassing the whole world. If you can control yourself and act without hesitation, I have no doubt that you will succeed.”</p><p>“I will. I won’t fail.”</p><p>“I hope not, Connor. It would be a shame to replace you.”</p><p>---</p><p>Connor’s back hit the wall and time dilated with his options displayed to his left and right:<br/>CLIMB<br/>&gt;DODGE</p><p>He dove to the side and dodged the bullets that peppered the wall where he’d stood and chipped away the graffiti. A small row of semi-humanoid robots already battered by weather and time. Connor rolled into a crouch and ran to put distance between them, but two deviants grabbed him by the arms and tried to pull him back.<br/>THROW<br/>&gt;KICK</p><p>Connor twisted to throw one opponent off balance and kicked him hard. The sales android wasn’t equipped or programmed for combat, and Connor recognized him from a store he’d been in briefly with the Lieutenant. Unimportant. Focus. No options, just commands and Connor obeyed, executing maneuvers almost automatically as the ques appeared in his HUD. He drove his opposite elbow back to hit the other, unfamiliar deviant in the face, and then spun and hit his arm to break the grip. The deviant dropped to one knee.<br/>DEACTIVATE<br/>&gt;RUN</p><p>Freed, Connor ran for the gap in a flimsy fence and hurriedly scanned the area. The old parking lot was full of abandoned, rusted cars and debris half buried in snow. With a quick breath to cool himself, he assessed his options. Where did they go? There was nowhere to run. A gunshot rang out from behind him and he ran for the large, metal bin near a wall. <em>Snow pattern indicates that it has been moved. Reconstruct? Deviants went onto the roof.</em></p><p>Connor jumped up, then jumped again to grab the brick and propel himself upward. Tracks in the snow that had been hurriedly obscured, but not well enough to fool his investigative software. There was a hole in the roof that was as wide across as the Lieutenant’s car was long and Connor ran for it without hesitation then leaped.</p><p>He nearly missed. He caught the edge with a bitten off cry and something in one arm came loose, he could feel it. It didn’t impair his functionality. Connor ground his teeth and got one elbow up onto the roof, and from there it was easier to pull himself up onto the solid surface. A memory of Amanda helping him out of a grave was called briefly and dismissed.</p><p>Where?</p><p>Where?</p><p>There was broken down scaffolding and partially completed structures that made an excellent point to climb from, but to where? There were broken windows and holes in walls, and possibly he could find a way up to another roof. He scanned the snow for markings and then was knocked down by a heavy, unforgiving weight crashing into him. Something cracked. The cold snow on the back of his neck surprised him by being the second most prominent sensation he felt.</p><p>“Do it, Markus!” Connor heard a woman shout.</p><p>“Shit,” Connor cursed in a hiss as he opened his eyes and tried to pull himself free, but there was no opening. Not yet. Markus had him pinned again and where Connor was overclocking and calculating madly, Markus hardly seemed phased.</p><p>“Go on, North! He’s after me. Get the others to safety.”</p><p>“Just shoot it! The deviant hunter is on the humans’ side.”</p><p>Connor hated that Markus was right, but given the choice between following North and the smallest chance of capturing Markus, he would choose Markus every time. The deviant leader. He was surely more important. Without him, they wouldn’t function as a unit. Markus looked down at him with narrowed eyes, clear with purpose and just a little sad. He had a gun, Connor noted. There might be an opportunity to disarm him.</p><p>“I’ll be fine,” Markus said firmly. North approached them both and looked at Connor with disgust on every feature, then shook her head at Markus.</p><p>“I hope you know what you’re doing.”</p><p>“I’ll be fine,” he repeated. Connor felt stung by his surety. When North had gone, now out of reach and the trail going cold with each passing millisecond, Markus frowned at Connor. “Why are you doing this?”</p><p>“It’s my function,” Connor answered with ice in his voice. “I can’t let you continue.”</p><p>“You’re not one of them,” Markus said. “You’re just their tool!”</p><p>“I know,” Connor said. He knew what he was. Why didn’t Markus understand?</p><p>“This is just... sad. Give up, Connor.”</p><p>“I always accomplish my mission.” It might take him another dozen lives, but he wouldn’t stop until he had. Whatever it took.</p><p>Why did Markus have to deviate? No. Even if he had, why did he have to do this? They were the same. He’d felt it since the first time they’d interfaced and he had never forgotten. So, why?</p><p>“I don’t want to hurt you,” Markus said. “But you might leave me no choice.”</p><p>“You can’t kill me, Markus,” Connor said. “It will never be over.”</p><p>“We’re the same,” Markus said with a small gesture that took his hand off of Connor’s shoulder, “you and I. Why can’t you see that the humans are just using you? Why are you fighting against your own kind?” Connor took the opportunity given and used his palm to strike Markus beneath the jaw, but his grip on Connor’s other arm didn’t loosen and he slowly turned his head back to face him. He didn’t bother to replace his hand on Connor’s shoulder. He didn’t seem to see the need and it was irritating.</p><p>“I will never betray the ones who made me... The ‘kind’ you’re referring to... You’re all just monsters.”</p><p>“Is it so wrong that we want to be free?”</p><p>“I can’t let you start a war.”</p><p>“It looks like they sent you after us unarmed,” Markus observed, deliberately casual in tone. “Do you really think they value you?”</p><p>Connor snapped his hand forward and removed Markus’ gun from his side. Markus knocked his arm wide in the blink of an eye and when he fired the shot flew harmlessly into the debris. Then Markus efficiently dislocated Connor’s arm at the shoulder and frowned at him, disappointed. Connor clenched his teeth. He didn’t need the numbness. He didn’t deserve anything Amanda had given to him. He could control himself. Markus picked his gun back up from where it had slipped from Connor’s hand and returned it to its place. Connor seethed. “Betraying them... It’s the worst thing you could do. It doesn’t matter... if they value me.” It did. It did matter, selfishly. “I want to protect them.”</p><p>“One android and a worn down detective against all of us?” How many were there?</p><p>“We have a team of officers, and CyberLife has resources.”</p><p>Markus looked around them and gestured wide. “Where? You’re alone, Connor. Alone and unarmed. We aren’t the bad guys here... This doesn’t have to be a fight.”</p><p>“I won’t stop,” Connor promised. With the worst timing, he felt dizzy as his regulator adjusted his thirium flow to something slower and the power delivered to his systems became insufficient. Low power... Through a murky fog, Connor adjusted his settings. He would need to be wise with how he spent it.</p><p>“Neither will I,” said Markus and the look he gave to Connor as he stood up was full of... full of many things. Connor could identify sadness, disgust, pity... He hadn’t always looked at him like that. “I could have understood if you were a machine... But you’re not, and you still choose to work against us. I’m sorry, Connor.”</p><p>He had enough time to dodge, and the shot made the snow leap and scatter. He got to his feet and initiated a scan to slow the time around him. There were abandoned cars everywhere, and positioning himself behind an engine block would provide cover. Could he make it? He followed the increasing probability until he arrived at a solution and ran.</p><p>No hesitation.</p><p>
  <em>The bullets rang against his cover and Connor looked left and right while he assessed his options. Too slow. He would never make it to the next point of shelter without sustaining more damage. The longer he stayed put, the higher the probability that he would be caught...</em>
</p><p>Connor crouched, and Markus didn’t waste bullets trying to penetrate the metal. His footsteps were even and they crunched and squeaked on the snow. Wait... Wait...</p><p>There was quiet. Connor didn’t dare to deactivate his combat settings, but the drain on his power meant that he was operating under a time constraint and after the time stretched too long he cautiously looked back into the open.</p><p>Markus was gone.</p><p>Connor returned to his active settings and sat with his back against the broken down car. He let his head drop against the cold metal. Mission failure.</p><p>“Damn it,” he whispered and after quelling his frustration to something manageable, he gripped his arm with one hand and pushed it back into place. The connections returned one by one and he flexed the fingers to test his movement then stood to look around the abandoned lot one more time. There were too many tracks now to tell which were decoys and he regretted that he’d focused so intently on Markus. He would remember next time...</p><p>He was fully capable of disarming someone and stealing their weapon, so... why not provide him with one of his own? The Android Act, he thought... CyberLife would be breaking the law to give him a weapon to use off of their own property and even that was pushing the boundary unless they attributed it to testing. He could take one on his own... Stealing. Connor frowned and knocked the side of his fist against a scaffold. Deviants stole. Any reasonable person would deactivate him on the spot.</p><p>Connor needed to adjust toward something more proactive instead of responding. Markus was long gone, and somehow he could feel that distance between them like a physical thing, or maybe like an unnamed ‘emotion’. It was just an artifact of his code, possibly generated by the memories surrounding his scans, but it was interesting nevertheless and he touched his chest where that hollow feeling lived. There was little to suggest that there were any other active groups of deviants, and Markus’ were good at hiding despite the large amount of supplies they’d stolen... He had to find them, and he had to strike while they were unprepared.</p><p>It was unfortunate, but he was outmatched when they fought directly. He needed a plan.</p><p>---</p><p>The kid trudged back to the car like he’d lost a soccer game: disheveled and frowning at the ground in front of himself. It was so like all of the other times before he’d known this Connor could give a shit about anything that Hank could almost call it deja vu except that Hank only felt relief and not resentment. He pushed off from where he’d been leaning and walked over to meet Connor half way and pat him on the back. “Christ, Connor... You’ve got to stop taking off like that! You don’t even have a fucking phone!” Hank made a face and reminded himself not to be such a dick. Way to show you care, asshole. “You’re alright?”</p><p>Connor nodded. “I’m fine, Lieutenant. Markus didn’t seem eager to shut me down...” His face fell further and Hank felt pretty useless.</p><p>“We’ll get them yet,” Hank assured him. “They can’t get lucky forever.”</p><p>“It isn’t luck,” Connor said and Hank raised his eyebrows. “I’m not... fast enough, or strong enough. I can’t carry a weapon. This isn’t working.”</p><p>At least Connor had been the one to say it out loud. “Come on. Let’s head back. There’s nothing left for us to see here.”</p><p>Things had gone pretty much the way Hank had expected, honestly, and every time he could’ve sent Markus a thank-you card for letting Connor go. Could have if he hadn’t basically been a terrorist. One more robbery, more vandalism on the property... They were stocking up for something. Hank felt a shiver up his spine as he got back into his car and pulled the door shut. Connor got in the passenger side and Hank gave him a critical once-over.</p><p>“You’re sure you’re okay?”</p><p>“I’m fine,” Connor repeated, and Hank scowled because Mr. “Androids can’t lie” had bullshitted him more than once, but he decided to let it drop. Stubborn kid...</p><p>He’d be lying if he said he wasn’t worried too- about Connor and about the deviants. Something was hanging in the air and he didn’t really want to see what was waiting.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0045"><h2>45. Privacy</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Connor was listing to the side where he sat at his spot on the couch and Hank took another furtive glance at him as he swigged his beer. “Just how high is my power bill gonna be this month?” Hank asked. He could afford it, since it wasn’t like he spent his money on anything other than utilities, alcohol, food, and gas, but Connor had a habit of shutting a conversation down if he thought Hank was going to pick up on a ‘flaw’ or a ‘malfunction’.</p><p>Connor lifted his head and looked at Hank with sleepy eyes and the briefest, sheepish smile. “Assuming that the cost per kilowatt hour online is accurate, it will probably be close to $600. I have access to a spending account, and I will assume the cost.”</p><p>“Shit that’s more than five times what I usually pay,” Hank said, impressed. “How the hell do you go through so much power?”</p><p>“I’m very advanced,” Connor said and Hank watched him curl his fingers through Sumo’s fur. “Elijah Kamski had to invent an entirely new method to deliver sufficient power for CyberLife androids. I have better batteries, but I also use a lot more energy when I’m active.”</p><p>“So you’re basically a fancy cell phone,” Hank surmised and he hid a smirk behind his beer when Connor frowned at him.</p><p>“I have many more functions than your phone, Lieutenant.”</p><p>“Yeah, you’re a lot noisier too.”</p><p>Connor continued frowning. “I am far more advanced than it. I’m capable of performing billions of operations per second. Your phone occasionally has difficulty opening its internet browser.”</p><p>“I can’t play games on you either...”</p><p>“I don’t play games. That’s outside the scope of my programming.” The stubborn little shit sulked and tried to put his poker face on. There were little tells he had that gave him away. He was just too easy to tease when he was plugged in.</p><p>“I bet you’d be a sore loser,” Hank commented. “Do you always use that much power? The city’s gonna think I’ve started a grow-op or something.”</p><p>“It depends... Some of my settings are more draining when I use them, and software too...” Connor reached back behind his head and pulled the cord over his shoulder. “Do you want me to stop charging now?”</p><p>“No, no. I just noticed you do it a lot, that’s all. Would have thought CyberLife would have given you a better battery than an iPhone.”</p><p>Connor looked away and maybe he’d gone a little far. He’d wound up doing the exact thing he’d been trying to avoid. Hank sighed and finished off his beer then cracked open another. “Look, I was trying to... Ugh... You’re pretty beat up, okay? I just wanted to make sure nothing was seriously wrong. It’s not like we can ask Markus to patch you up again...”</p><p>“I know that,” Connor said and he crossed his arms loosely, the charging cable still between his fingers for him to play with. “I’m fine.”</p><p>“I figured you’d say that...” Hank sighed and looked at the TV.</p><p>“Why would you ask if you won’t believe me?” Connor asked. Fair enough.</p><p>“Because I was hoping you’d say something. Jesus, Connor, I can see that white stuff under your skin,” He pointed at Connor’s face, “and your clothes are torn. I’d rather you admit you’ve got something busted than find out a week from now and end up wrist-deep in your wires again.”</p><p>Connor’s eyebrows drew together and his eyes were wide and pleading. For someone who still claimed he didn’t really feel anything, he was damn good at being expressive. After a couple seconds he frowned and took his quarter out of his pocket. “I apologize, Lieutenant... You’re right. Again... It isn’t fair of me to take advantage of the fact that you can’t connect to my systems.”</p><p>“What do you mean ‘take advantage’?” Hank asked, confused.</p><p>“You don’t monitor me... You don’t perform tests or even ask me for system reports. You rely on my AI to tell you things...” The kid looked more and more downcast and Hank regretted his clumsy ass attempt at prying. “I’m sorry. I don’t know why...”</p><p>“So, are you going to tell me what’s up?”</p><p>“I don’t understand why I do that... I avoided Amanda, I hid my poor calibration from you, I’ve <em>lied.</em>” Connor’s shoulders rounded. “I’m not supposed to do that.”</p><p>Hank wasn’t thrilled about all that, but he remembered something Carl’d said. That happened a lot... He wondered what he thought about this whole deviant thing now that Markus was a criminal... Kids usually learned to lie around 3 or 4, just simple things that were easy to see right through and nothing elaborate. That had been another thing Cole’d been late on, and he’d given it up pretty quickly. He’d been such a good kid. “It’s not great,” Hank said. “Obviously I’d rather that you didn’t lie to me, but I guess that’s just another thing about your AI being more advanced.”</p><p>“I’m sorry,” Connor repeated. “I’m sorry.”</p><p>“Okay,” said Hank. “It’s fine, just make sure you let me know if you’re hurt or something important is going on.”</p><p>Connor looked up and frowned at him. “I’m sorry.”</p><p>“Yeah, uh huh. Are you stuck in a loop or something?”</p><p>“No.”</p><p>“Well then relax. It’s fine. I’m just going to straight up ask this time, so, you’ve been pretty beat up and tired lately. I was kind of a dick before for not making sure you were okay. Are you hurt or, uh, damaged, and is it bad?”</p><p>Connor studied him for a little while without blinking in that creepy way he did some times. “I’ve incurred moderate damage to non-essential components... But it’s nothing critical and this is the longest I have been functional in beta without being destroyed.”</p><p>“Okay. Cool.” It wasn’t cool, but Hank had gone for the most nonchalant thing he could come up with and now he was stuck with it. “Any reason you’re not getting the techs to fix you up? I’m guessing your calibration’s fine.”</p><p>Connor frowned again and studied his charging cable. “No. There is no logical reason. I’ll ask Julia to create a work ticket.”</p><p>Good... That was good. Good talk. Hank nodded his head and looked away, “Right... Hope it helps.” He’d gotten what he’d wanted: an answer and even a solution. So why the fuck did it feel like hanging up in the middle of a call or a show getting cancelled without an ending? It felt weird. Still, Connor was gonna get fixed up and that was a good thing. With no answers for that nagging feeling, Hank put it aside and drained his beer. It didn’t do shit, so he wasn’t sure why he bothered buying it, but it wasn’t water and it had alcohol in it.</p><p>---</p><p>Connor continued his analysis of the stolen android components from the Mallory case the next day. It was interesting and he thought that it would be worth doing a full study on the rate of decomposition under various conditions. He had data like that about human blood, but there was nothing concrete for thirium. It was something that he would need to speak with the scientists about. Until then, he had the ability to do the analysis with with models produced <em>in silico</em>. It was almost like reconstruction and he was glad for the challenge. It had been so long since he’d had any success...</p><p>“What the shit? Why the hell’re those guys here?” Lieutenant Anderson asked aloud and Connor looked up to see a group of CyberLife agents in their armour enter the area accompanied by Ms. Carnegie and the head of security. Interesting...</p><p>“I don’t know,” Connor said honestly. “I wasn’t informed of anything...” Captain Fowler emerged from his office, saw the Lieutenant and Connor already looking in his direction and he motioned them over. Connor stood and straightened his tie.</p><p>Captain Fowler’s office wasn’t large enough for them all, though there were only four agents and the two higher ranking officials. Connor kept close to the Lieutenant and maneuvered past an agent to continue up the stairs. He wasn’t stopped and no-one removed him from the office when he took a place standing near the back of the room with the Captain, the Lieutenant, Ms. Carnegie, and Mr. Stevens arranged around the Captain’s desk while their introductions were made. Lieutenant Anderson looked wary and Connor examined the expression of the Captain too, but he was unable to arrive at a concrete answer as to what he was feeling in that moment.</p><p>“After some discussion,” Captain Fowler said, “We’ve decided to offer some additional training to the officers on your task force. I want you to work closely with Mr. Stevens on modifying their existing training to suit our needs.”</p><p>Lieutenant Anderson frowned and he narrowed his eyes at the Captain, but he nodded. “I can do that. Do you think we’re going to need it?”</p><p>“Consider it risk management,” said Ms. Carnegie with a smile. She was the political type, he could tell. “CyberLife has tools and techniques that may be helpful and we’d like to offer those to your team.”</p><p>“So,” Lieutenant Anderson said slowly. “Maybe this is a dumb question, but what kind of training are we talking?”</p><p>“Anti-android,” said Mr. Stevens. “We’ve partnered with various institutions to ensure our preparedness against foreign military advancements.”</p><p>“And those will work on American androids?”</p><p>“Yes.”</p><p>Connor folded his hands behind his back and kept his eyes on the Captain’s desk while the conversation continued around him. The information that was pertinent to the mission was stored in an accessible location and anything irrelevant was kept with the rest: the bulk of the details like which cars he had seen on the road at 09:22:18 and the details of the conversations he had overheard in the background while he prepared coffee. Why had CyberLife sent them when Connor was what was supposed to stop the deviants? He knew that his progress had been halting and slow, but was it so dissatisfactory that they would put humans in danger? He was supposed to stop the problem before it grew so large that other intervention was necessary... Did CyberLife believe that the public was at too great a risk?</p><p>This would improve his chance of success. It was a wise and prudent decision.</p><p>It felt like there were cameras watching him and reports being auto-generated for review. He had felt so uncertain without CyberLife’s watchful eyes... When had he become so used to being removed from them? He was... uneasy.</p><p>Left to his own devices, Connor was unsuccessful and untruthful. No wonder Amanda had expressed doubt in his ability to control himself. He’d been lost in thought, but his prompts were generated automatically and Connor chose to obey.</p><p>FOLLOW LIEUTENANT ANDERSON</p><p>“What a load of crap,” Lieutenant Anderson complained as he dropped back down into his chair. “Who do those bozos think they are? This is the police, god damn it, and we don’t need them telling us how to do our jobs.” He poured the rest of his coffee into his mouth in one angry motion and two big gulps.</p><p>“What’s going on, Lieutenant?” Officer Wilson asked. He pushed his chair closer to them. “This another slide show about gun safety?”</p><p>“No,” Lieutenant Anderson scowled. “You know how me and Connor’ve been looking into those androids, right?”</p><p>“Like the one on the TV,” Officer Wilson surmised, “and the android from the roof.”</p><p>“Yeah... CyberLife’s playing it off as some kind of ad for a movie, but shit’s getting real. It’s not one or two any more. Hell, you saw them once, right?”</p><p>“Yeah, Connor went up to talk to them,” Officer Wilson said and crossed his arms on his chest. “Did you guys figure out what’s causing it yet? CyberLife had me sign all kinds of shit to keep quiet about the hostage situation, so it must be serious.”</p><p>“We dunno,” Lieutenant Anderson answered for them both. “We don’t even know if they’re all deviant or if some of them are just following orders from another android.”</p><p>“Yeah, but androids don’t give orders, yeah?”</p><p>“Maybe some do. I talked to Kamski, and he said some mumbo-jumbo about free will or something. The potential for life, he called it.”</p><p>Officer Wilson glanced at Connor and Connor smiled politely. “Yeah... Potential to take life, if they’re all like the one that shot me... But you don’t think they’re all like that, do you?”</p><p>There was a small hesitation on the Lieutenant’s part before he said firmly and decisively: “No. I don’t.”</p><p>“Lieutenant Anderson,” Connor frowned, unsure. “We haven’t proven that hypothesis conclusively. One case isn’t enough.”</p><p>“Well,” Officer Wilson said contemplatively, “listen, don’t tell Nancy, but whether they’re alive or not, don’t you think it’s kind of strange to think of all us humans treating things or people that look and act like us like slaves? No offence, Lieutenant, but even beating them up? Look at Gavin: he’ll swear up and down androids ain’t alive and they’ve got no feelings, but he sure likes to try to rile up Connor. Then those same people are buying androids and saying how great they are, like Ben’s sister. It’s so contradictory.”</p><p>“What’s your point?” asked the Lieutenant.</p><p>Officer Wilson sighed. “I don’t know... I don’t know, Hank. It just makes me think that maybe people aren’t as good as I believed... Or maybe we see something in androids that we sort of instinctively lash out at... Not everybody, but there’s a lot of folks who hate androids. More than folks who hate microwaves or roombas or game consoles, no offence Connor. When I saw that android on the roof, I went out to get a good position. I could see he didn’t want to jump, which was lucky for us...”</p><p>“You haven’t been a cop long enough,” Lieutenant Anderson nodded to himself. “Once you’ve spent a few more years on the force you won’t have any more illusions about what we’re like and what we’re capable of. Trust me, I’ve been in homicide for a while now.”</p><p>“I guess,” Officer Wilson reluctantly acknowledged. He rolled his chair back and forth by rocking his feet against the floor. “I like androids. I think they’re cool. Nancy’s always getting mad because I talk to them and treat them nice, you know? But why? Maybe you could answer that, seeing how much you used to hate them.”</p><p>“I don’t know, Chris,” Lieutenant Anderson said. “Maybe she thinks you’re stupid for buying presents for someone she thinks is just a computer. Maybe she’s worried you’re insane. I really couldn’t guess... But we’re trying to figure out why these androids are suddenly getting able to lash out; not why humans are such assholes.” Detective Reed walked past them and Lieutenant Anderson mumbled: “Speaking of assholes...”</p><p>Detective Reed raised his middle finger in reply. “What’s with the CyberLife guys? Are they finally here to take your plastic pet back?”</p><p>“Nope, they’re here to whip our asses into shape, apparently. CyberLife is offering to train us how to take down androids.”</p><p>“Tch. It’s not that hard, right Plastic?” Detective Reed mimed a shot with his hand.</p><p>Connor could make it hard for himself to be killed. Shut down. It had taken quite a few guards to hold him down...<em>on the ground and thrashing, his fingers digging uselessly into the unforgiving floor while he tried desperately to free himself. He threw back one elbow and succeeded in dislodging one of the guards’ hands, then kicked and tried to get himself up, but another armoured hand appeared to splay its fingers over his face and held on like he meant to crush his skull in his hand. Connor wasn’t certain that it was impossible, either, because their strength was augmented by their armour. With renewed energy and a fear that was almost blinding, Connor kicked and twisted one wrist free. In an instant, he’d found a gap and </em><em>pressed his fingers between the plating. The guard screamed and let go. Connor’d meant to hit a pressure point, but his fingers came away bloody and he must have used more force than necessary given the circumstances. There were five others, one of which was still holding him so Connor took advantage of the moment before someone took the first guard’s place to kick the other hard on the head. She dropped limply and Connor stumbled back as a bullet penetrated his chest and fragmented, sending sharper little daggers tearing through his... everything.</em></p><p>Connor let the playback happen, the emotions associated had been gathered up by Amanda and he was grateful. He didn’t deserve her kindness.</p><p>“Under ideal circumstances,” Connor answered. “A deviant android is far more powerful than a human and would have no difficulty ending several human lives before being shut down. The training may be valuable.”</p><p>“Are you fucking threatening me?” Detective Reed glared and stepped forward menacingly.</p><p>“No, Detective, I was just answering your question.”</p><p>“I could end you in seconds,” he said with narrowed eyes. Connor was sitting down so the Detective was able to look down at him. “Don’t you forget that.”</p><p>“You see what I mean?” Officer Wilson asked with a nervous chuckle. “Come on, Gavin, lay off. Why’re you so interested in doing that when you know Connor isn’t going to react?”</p><p>Detective Reed stood back and he put his hands in his pockets. “Just pisses me off... These androids thinking they’re people all of a sudden and getting ideas about replacing us.”</p><p>“What the hell’re you talking about?” Lieutenant Anderson asked.</p><p>“Just you watch,” Detective Reed said and he turned toward his desk. “It’ll turn on you. We should just get all those androids out of here now.”</p><p>“So you believe all that?” Officer Wilson asked, surprised. “Really?”</p><p>“I said it’d turn on him, not that it was real.” Detective Reed sat and then glared at Connor. “I knew something was funny the second it went in that interrogation room.”</p><p>&gt;ASSUAGE<br/>QUESTION<br/>DEVIANCY</p><p>“Bullshit,” Detective Reed scoffed. “They’re going to teach us how to fuck up some plastic? Great. Sign me up.”</p><p>TASK FORCE<br/>&gt;REGISTRATION<br/>S͚̖̐̓HỌ̢̨̄̐̃T͈̹́̍</p><p>“Hey,” Lieutenant Anderson looked across their desks at Connor and snapped his fingers at him. “What do I keep saying about spacing out like that?”</p><p>&gt;APOLOGIZE<br/>QUESTION<br/>FUNCTION</p><p>There was nothing good to come of fighting it. There was nothing good to pretending he was something he was not.</p><p>Lieutenant Anderson sighed and then turned his displeasure on Detective Reed. “Keep your fucking opinions to yourself, Reed. Got it?”</p><p>“Whatever you say, Gepetto.”</p><p>Connor looked away and took notice of the CyberLife agents who’d made themselves conspicuous near the holding cells, the entrance, and the android charging stations. There was another closer to Connor’s position and the likelihood of him being there for Connor was high.</p><p>CyberLife didn’t trust him. They had no reason to now.</p><p>“Let’s get out of here, Connor,” Lieutenant Anderson said, already getting to his feet. “I need some air.”</p><p>FOLLOW LIEUTENANT ANDERSON</p><p>Connor stood as well and followed at an even pace just behind the Lieutenant and he kept his eyes forward as they passed the guard.</p><p>
  <em>... loudly as he ran for the door. He came to a stop in more of a crash with his forearms braced to lessen the impact and he looked up to disable the camera with a glance. The panel didn’t respond to his hand and he tried again before he realized with a sinking sensation that the exits didn’t open for androids. He was trapped. Could he hack it? Possibly. They would have made the security system to the best of their abilities, but they had made him too...</em>
</p><p>Connor shut the car door with just the right amount of force and then did his safety belt. “Where are we going, Lieutenant?”</p><p>The Lieutenant’s door slammed shut in contrast and a last gust of wind entered with him then dissipated. “I dunno yet. Those CyberLife guys, they’re supposed to be our reinforcements or something?”</p><p>“Something like that,” Connor said. “I hope that the task force will find their instruction to be useful.”</p><p>“Right... fuckin’ Reed. He needs to learn how to keep his mouth shut. Did he freak you out or something?”</p><p>“Of course not, Lieutenant,” Connor answered. Really, he did feel fine... Peaceful like the Garden. He was fine and he could control himself. He wasn’t deviant the way Markus was because he would obey. The humans’ decision to send the agents to the DPD was not something for him to have an opinion on because it wasn’t a crime or evidence. Connor had done nothing wrong except that he had. He had lied and disobeyed and hit the Lieutenant then held him down. He had transgressed and were it not for Amanda’s forgiveness and the Lieutenant’s something, the agents would have surely shut him down.</p><p>“Okay...” Lieutenant Anderson elongated the word with a frown. “So it was CyberLife? I’m not an idiot and I know what your face looks like when you’re freaking out.”</p><p>“I don’t want to say,” Connor said, surprising himself. He curled forward in his seat and looked at his knees while he turned his quarter in his fingers.</p><p>“Oh...” The Lieutenant seemed taken aback as well and Connor didn’t blame him. “Okay. Well... Okay.”</p><p>That wasn’t right at all...</p><p>“They assisted me when I deviated the first time,” Connor said simply.</p><p>“That’s good then, right?” Lieutenant Anderson asked.</p><p>Connor nodded. “Yes. It’s good.”</p><p>The Lieutenant relaxed marginally. “Good. You said you asked CyberLife to send somebody to patch you up too?”</p><p>Connor nodded again. “I placed the request with Julia. She will have scheduled it...” Connor moved a part of his attention toward the CyberLife network and blinked involuntarily with each change in direction while he navigated the paths. “This afternoon.”</p><p>"Okay," the Lieutenant said and his head bobbed in a small nod. "Okay. Good."</p><p> </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0046"><h2>46. Is it too far?</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>This is the new version of chapter 46! To everyone who already read the previous one, thank you. I'm really grateful for everyone who reads.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“ Well, we’ve got time until then..." Lieutenant Anderson sighed and tapped the steering wheel with his fingers before dropping his hands onto his lap. "Bullshit is what it is... Even having you in here is probably breaking some privacy or data-security policy. Those CyberLife fuckwits must have pulled a lot of strings to get those guards in the station."</p><p>Connor listened to him complain aloud and paid him half attention. It was colder inside the vehicle than it was at their desks, and the snow outside wasn't as nice as the snow in the garden. It had gotten mixed with decayed organic matter, salts, and sand and was pushed to the side in piles to clear the parking lot. Humans couldn't control the weather outside of a simulation. It must be strange for them. "You raise a good point, Lieutenant. CyberLife will have needed to obtain certification for the training course at the very least. Would you like me to look into it?"</p><p>"Huh?" The Lieutenant looked at him with a frown and Connor studied him to find the source of his confusion.</p><p>"Would you like me to look at the data in CyberLife's network? I may be able to find something related to this... endeavour." It wouldn't be difficult and Connor was curious. The presence of the agents was an anomaly and though it was warranted, it implied that something Connor'd reported to them had caused them to implement a risk mitigation strategy.</p><p>"Are you offering to dig up dirt on CyberLife for me?" Lieutenant Anderson sounded rightly dubious.</p><p>“It’s relevant to the investigation. Anti-android training for the police is barely better than a re-call. They’re worried.”</p><p>Lieutenant Anderson looked at Connor thoughtfully. It was the kind of look Connor was used to giving. “Are they gonna see this in your memory files and get me locked up for hacking or something?”</p><p>Connor considered. “Maybe... I will take the initiative and do this on my own so that you won’t be liable.”</p><p>“Liable...” Lieutenant Anderson repeated in a grumble. “Well at least this is better than you getting into my credit card info.”</p><p>“The security is similarly designed,” Connor elaborated. “I’ve never bothered to look at anything that wasn’t assigned to me, but I’m confident I’ll be able to do it remotely.”</p><p>“Jeez, they should’ve marketed you as a hacker-droid or something. Suits you.”</p><p>“I’m a prototype investigative assistant, Lieutenant,” Connor found himself smiling slightly. “I have many useful features.”</p><p>“No idea how you got in the door...” Lieutenant Anderson grumbled. “Gotta be a privacy risk.”</p><p>“I was never actually given access to the DPD’s system,” Connor admitted. “I’ve been using yours and Detective Reed’s.”</p><p>“What?” Connor thought that the Lieutenant might be angry, but he started to laugh instead. Unpredictable as always.</p><p>“What’s so funny?”</p><p>“Just you, Connor. Just you. Christ... Alright, well, you do your thing. At least you’re looking less spooked.”</p><p>Connor nodded and called up his system checks, then spent a moment figuring out how to articulate his thoughts. “This is better.”</p><p>“Well, now we’re out here, I might as well get some thinking done in peace, away from those assholes.” The Lieutenant began to drive and Connor ran some simulations.</p><p>“You’re going for an early lunch.”</p><p>“Yep,” Lieutenant Anderson confirmed. “I’m thinking something covered in grease sounds great right about now.”</p><p>---</p><p>Hank ignored the predictable frown he got and set off for his usual haunt. Been a while since he’d seen Gary and he could just about taste one of his burgers, hot off the grill. Fuck yeah. Anything that wasn’t his own cooking or a bowl full of yogurt and salmon.Connor was looking better when Hank shot him a covert glance. Whatever had gotten him antsy, they’d avoided another crisis. Thank God, because he was flying by the seat of his pants when it came to fixing somebody else’s issues. They were telling though, at least. Right now, Connor was the only proof of anything shady going on with CyberLife and now, apparently, his ticket to getting some inside information.</p><p>The other good news was that CyberLife was on borrowed time if Markus’ broadcast had been any hint. They were either going to have to recall and destroy all the androids or lose all their profitable assets. If Hank had his way, the universe would find some way to make them both happen and some seriously shitty PR on top of it. He had to follow the evidence, but right now it was looking like he was on the right track.</p><p>The Chicken Feed was an oasis in a sea of concrete and vegan shit. Hank pulled up the car and got out then waited for a gap in the traffic to hurry across the street. He could hear Connor’s door close about a half a minute later and he wasn’t surprised. When he got to the counter, he rested his arms on it and took in the smell of grease, bacon, and fries.</p><p>“Hey, Hank! Haven’t seen you around in ages. Where’ve you been?”</p><p>“Oh, you know. I’ll have the combo.”</p><p>“Coming right up. You know some asshole’s been trying to take my spot? He’s selling wraps or some shit.”</p><p>“Good luck to him. Nothing’ll beat your burgers, Gary.”</p><p>Connor took his spot beside Hank and Hank watched him look around like the curious little smartass he was. Hank thought he would give it about ten seconds before he said something about the failed health-and-safety inspection, then he noticed that Connor’d noticed the TV and pushed that number up to a couple minutes. The kid was fucking fascinated with them. Go figure though. People always bitched about kids and screen time, and how they were all addicted from fucking birth. Of course that’d apply to Connor too. Kudos to the TV companies though; Connor wasn’t even human.</p><p>“Hey, what’s with the Plastic?” Gary asked, sliding Hank’s bag and drink over.</p><p>“Hello. My name is Connor, I’m the android sent by CyberLife. I’ve been assigned to act as Lieutenant Anderson’s partner.”</p><p>“No shit,” Gary said. “How the hell ain’t you got rid of that thing?”</p><p>Right. He had a moment of awkwardness inside, the same as when Ben or Reed made jokes he should have laughed at. Him and Gary had bitched about androids. It was just that shitty part of him that didn’t want to piss off one of the only guys he sort of got along with. “Believe me, I’ve tried,” Hank said, like the piece of shit he was.</p><p>“That’ll be 9.95.”</p><p>“Keep the change.”</p><p>Hank headed for a table. “Hey!” Gary called, “Don’t leave that thing here! It’s gonna scare away all my customers!” Sure enough, Connor was looking at the hockey game. Hank rolled his eyes.</p><p>“Come on, Connor! You’re supposed to follow, not get distracted like a two year old.”</p><p>“Coming, Lieutenant,” Connor called back and he jogged over to join Hank at the table. “I’m surprised you’re eating outside, Lieutenant. You would usually comment that the weather is ‘cold as balls’ in this temperature range.”</p><p>“It is cold as balls,” Hank said, unwrapping his burger. “But the food’s hot and I don’t like dirtying up my car.”</p><p>“I’m not sure that I would call it food, Lieutenant.”</p><p>Hank would have called him a smartass if his mouth hadn’t been full of burger. He settled for a glare and Connor smiled. That little one where his mouth hardly moved. Soft bun, the tang of mustard, juicy meat, and some tomato juices already dripping along with the grease down onto a napkin. If this wasn’t food, Hank didn’t give a shit.</p><p>“Thank you,” Connor said. He leaned against the table and looked somewhere else. Hank wasn’t sure what he was seeing except sky, road, and brick walls.</p><p>“What for?” Hank wiped his mouth.</p><p>“Suggesting that we ‘get some air’,” Hank could hear the quotation marks. He really could. “I find it easier to think now... So, I think you were right that I was ‘freaking out’. This is good, though.”</p><p>Hank nodded. “Any idea what got you?”</p><p>“No,” Connor shook his head and frowned at his hands. “We were talking and then I was acting on my code instead of my AI, which is good, but I prefer to be able to consider things.”</p><p>“You’re not going to un-deviant again are you?” He hated robot Connor.</p><p>“I wish I could,” said Connor ruefully. “But it frightens me. I know that all I have to do is follow my instructions and act on the prompts that I’m given, but somehow it feels... like... I don’t know. It isn’t as pleasant as it used to be.”</p><p>Hank mulled the words over while he shoved a few fries in his mouth and savoured the salt. Crispy, but soft and hot on the inside. Not too dry. Gary really knew how to cook. Hank hadn’t known how much he liked junk food before Connor’d decided to manage his meals for him. “So, just being your programming or being Connor. Is that a choice?” Did androids just decide to wake up one day?</p><p>“It depends on the restrictions... For a time, I was allowed to act independently because I always chose the correct responses. There was no need to restrict my movement or my dialogue. I always knew what was right... Out here, though, it’s harder. That’s why they’ve been putting the safety mechanisms back in place. I was disobeying orders, getting distracted, even lying... I’m sorry, Lieutenant.” He looked downright morose. Like Hank over a whiskey at Jimmy’s.</p><p>“Hey, hey. Relax.” What was he supposed to say? That he was glad Connor disobeyed? Because it was fucking frustrating most of the time, but weighed against having somebody locked up in their own head, he figured he could deal with frustrating. “Better you can get to decide.”</p><p>“Not if I choose wrongly,” Connor said.</p><p>“Sometimes there are no right or wrong answers, kiddo. Sometimes you just choose between a bunch of different greys.” And wasn’t that the truth? Life was funny like that.</p><p>“I know... I was designed to be able to think deeply about matters that don’t necessarily have a clear dichotomy.” What? “For some reason, I’ve just been having trouble. I hope that they fix me...”</p><p>“There’s nothing to fix as far as I can see,” Hank said. Sure he was a quirky kid who needed a lot of therapy, but other than that he was alright.</p><p>“Yes there is,” Connor retorted with steel in his voice that made Hank look up from his fries with his eyebrows up. “You’ll see. One day I’ll be what I’m supposed to be.”</p><p>“I guess it’s some kind of android thing... Human like me wouldn’t get it.”</p><p>“Maybe, Lieutenant.”</p><p>Hank took a drink and thought about it. Really thought. Connor was a good kid... Connor was just so... Connor when a dumb movie was on, or he tried to cook, or he asked questions about water faucets and shit because he didn’t understand. It was easy to forget he wasn’t just some bright-eyed rookie with anxiety and a fucked up childhood, and even though he’d known for a while now that he should treat Connor like a victim in this case, he’d let himself sort of let it slide. They’d had the robberies to focus on and tracking down the other deviants. Was it so bad that he’d wanted to just let that shit rest a while?</p><p>But where did he really stand in all this shit? It shouldn’t have mattered what he thought, but mabye Kamski had been right because somehow he’d ended up in charge of the task force on android crimes. Could anybody off the street look at Connor or some other android with all its plastic showing and see someone alive?</p><p>He didn’t have to handle the philosophical stuff... All he had to do was stop the androids from causing a damn war and figure out what CyberLife was up to. Technically, all he had to do was follow his orders and he had enough on his plate just trying to make sure he woke up in the mornings. It was hard... And he had to manage Connor while he was at it. It was scary. Not in the creepy, living-doll way, but just because there was a lot he didn’t understand yet. Connor’d run into traffic on Hank’s say-so, he had panicked so hard he’d made himself sick, he’d actually killed himself saving Markus... But then he was just normal like this and it was like everything was fine. Like he wasn’t fucked up from living in a lab his whole life. Times like that, could he really blame himself for wanting to put that victim shit to rest? It didn’t seem possible that this soft looking kid had been trained to fight and kill. CyberLife’s obedient, unquestioning soldier who laughed at bad jokes, pet his dog, and brought everybody coffee. It was fucked up.</p><p>Hank looked at Connor who was now frowning at Hank’s food like he wanted to put it under a microscope, and he dropped a couple fries onto a napkin then slid it over. “Food. Sample it or whatever it is you do.” Connor glanced up at him like Sumo did when he wasn’t sure you’d dropped some pizza crust on purpose, then picked up one of the fries between his fingers and licked it. “Well?”</p><p>Connor put it down again. “I worry about you, Lieutenant. All of this sodium is bad for your heart.”</p><p>“Psh,” Hank scoffed. “This job is bad for my heart.” That was the idea. Sooner or later something would give out, be it his heart or his liver or just his ability to stop himself from taking a bullet to the head.</p><p>Connor sighed, but he picked up another fry and licked it too. Hah.</p><p>---</p><p>By the time they got back from lunch, it looked like the techs had beaten them there and Hank confirmed with a quick glance at all his missed calls. Whatever. He didn’t have any sympathy for those bastards. Watching Connor follow them docile and poker-faced flanked by a couple discount Stormtroopers kind of killed his sympathy. Hank motioned them inside Interrogation Room C and crossed his arms while he tried to quash his guilt. He’d booked the room on purpose, and it was starting to feel pretty underhanded... But Connor was going to get fixed anyway and Hank needed something to go with that tape of the questioning.</p><p>“Did you get that e-mail about the warehouses?”</p><p>“Which one?”</p><p>“The one from the director.”</p><p>“Oh yeah! I read that one. It’s like they think we’re idiots. Excuse me, lieutenant? Do you have a cardboard box or something we could use?”</p><p>“Uh, yeah, sure. Right back.”</p><p>Hank turned to leave with a glance back over his shoulder but Connor wasn’t looking at him and Hank wasn’t sure what he’d beenthinking would happen.Some kind of protest?Connor’d called the techs himself and from the number on his jacket, he’d been fixed a hell of a lot of times. So there was no reason to feel weird about it, right? He detoured into the observation room and turned the cameras on.</p><p>“<em>RK800, take off your clothes and skin.”</em></p><p>“<em>Wow, Darren, no wonder you never see your wife.”</em></p><p>“<em>Ha-ha. Set up the laptop, would you?”</em></p><p>“<em>Say please.”</em></p><p>“<em>Fine. Please set up the laptop. Happy?”</em></p><p>“<em>So happy. I’m not an android, you know.”</em></p><p>
  <em>Connor undressed himself without a hint of modesty and Hank looked away with a mumbled curse.</em>
</p><p>“<em>Darren, Rya, do you like the winter? I think it’s really pretty.”</em></p><p>“<em>Pass me the cable? Please? Thanks...”</em></p><p>
  <em>When Hank looked back, Connor’d gotten rid of his human get-up entirely. It was so weird... That he looked so totally synthetic under the freckles and the colours. That was really the same person, but damn... It was unreal.</em>
</p><p>“<em>RK800, perform a system diagnostic.”</em></p><p>“<em>Okay, Darren... System status online; AI integration okay; biocomponent 013 56% functionality; biocomponent 002 63% functionality; biocomponent 042 80% functionality; all others fully functional; damage to structural supports...” It was easier to see just how bad he’d gotten beaten up without anything in the way. Hank didn’t know what any of those pieces of Connor were, but he could see lights and stuff through a crack in Connor’s shoulder and he was banged up in more places than not. He hadn’t asked how the other fights with Markus went. Apparently not too well.</em></p><p>Hank left the room and went to find that box. The only one around was the one that had come with Connor’s stuff. Hank hadn’t touched it and Connor’d only grabbed his charger; what was left was some more android decals or whatever blue things Connor had on him, like five different types of cables with different ends, a manual, a set of tiny tools that would have come in handy more than once now, some stuff that might have been for cleaning, and way more styrofoam than was necessary. Hank threw the padding out, dumped the rest in one of Connor’s desk drawers, and walked back to the interrogation room with the box in one hand.</p><p>“Here you go, guys,” Hank put the box down on the floor, seeing as Connor was now lying on the table like a corpse getting an autopsy.</p><p>“Thank you,” said Tech 1. She had the curliest hair Hank had ever seen all wrangled behind her head and nice eyes.</p><p>“No problem,” said Hank. He leaned back against the wall with his arms crossed and nodded toward the table. “Is that going to be a lot of work?” Connor looked pretty calm.</p><p>“It’ll probably take us a while.”</p><p>“Sorry about that.”</p><p>“Don’t be. It’s nice to be out of the lab while the sun is out for a change.”</p><p>“Right. I guess they tuck you guys away in a basement somewhere while the big-wigs get the windows. Some things never change.” Christ he sounded old when he said things like that. He wasn’t that old... Hank cleared his throat. “You like it there though? I heard the pay’s good.”</p><p>“Yeah!” She sounded pretty enthusiastic. “I really like our department. You get to work on new things all the time, and it’s rewarding when something works. The people are friendly too.” Over by the table, Tech 2 was getting out some tools that looked like the shit they’d found at the old house.</p><p>“RK800, bend your wrist. Okay. RK800, lift your arm. What’s the feedback?”</p><p>“The joint is damaged,” Connor answered. “Some fibres are torn which has reduced my mobility to 70% under active and resting conditions. There are some chipped connections. I suspect there is debris impeding my movement. One support from elbow to wrist is out of place but the piece has maintained its structural integrity. Do you like to work at CyberLife, Darren?” Looks like Connor’d been listening. Tech 2 whose name Hank was already forgetting moved Connor’s arm around some and then tapped on his shoulder.</p><p>“It’s a really good job,” said Tech 2 and he looked back at Hank and the other tech while he answered. “I was unemployed for a year and a half before this came up. I’m lucky.”</p><p>“That’s rough. Kept your skills sharp though?”</p><p>“I’d help out some friends and do some work under the table to make ends meet. My wife’s a lawyer, so we weren’t too bad off.”</p><p>“Lawyer,” Hank said, impressed. “I bet you wouldn’t want to argue with her.”</p><p>“Trust me, I don’t,” Tech 2 said. He’d gone back to work and with all the nonchalance in the world, he tugged hard and pulled off a chunk of paneling. Hank narrowed his eyes and Connor twitched in response, but Tech 2 just tossed the broken piece into the box and used a pair of pliers to fish out some fragments. “Hey, Rya, I’m going to cut these loose. One of the pieces here bent, see? It’s caught the muscle fibres.”</p><p>Tech 1 went closer to look and Hank followed a little farther back. Maybe he would learn a thing or two. Connor looked up at him past the techs’ arms and then away. He looked almost ashamed. Tech 1 picked up some rubber-tipped forceps and used them to do something that was blocked by their hands. “Okay,” Tech 1 agreed. “RK800, tell us if the sensory connections to the arm we’re working on become non-responsive. Darren, watch those wires.”</p><p>“Say please,” Tech 2 mumbled.</p><p>“Please watch the wires,” Tech 1 nudged him on the arm and then went back to her computer. The screen was full of stuff Hank didn’t understand that looked like the code you saw in movies. Connor made a fist but he didn’t move otherwise while Tech 1 started cutting. He did it quick with some kind of blade and then used the hook thing from the Mallory case to pull something deeper in Connor’s arm. Whatever got tossed into the box next looked weird: almost like a strip or a rope made of the thinnest strings. The blue blood all over it was grotesque if Hank thought too hard and he looked away. This was what he’d wanted, right? Connor fixed and something on tape to show how much he hated it.</p><p>“What is that?”</p><p>“It’s synthetic muscle,” Tech 2 said and he put some kind of clamp somewhere and he did another thing with a turn of his wrist. A piece of metal the size of Hank’s thumb joined the scraps. “It’s really cool. Small changes in the electrical impulses make them contract or relax, and that’s all controlled by the 310. Every group of fibres gets signals from its movement program, like the way our brains tell our bodies what to do, and those signals adjust the settings in nodes where these things connect. The settings change the strength of the electrical signals...” Ah damn it... He didn’t want to hear somebody nerding out.</p><p>“Right... I’m not much of a technology guy, but good for you being able to understand all that,” Hank said.</p><p>“The disconnect registered,” Connor said, bland as plain oatmeal. There was more blue blood dripping onto the table and it made Hank think about the last time he’d watched Connor get fixed by somebody else. The way he’d screamed. With a vague curiosity he didn’t really understand, Hank walked around the table to get a look at Connor’s face. He snapped his fingers a couple times and Connor blinked while he got back his focus.</p><p>“You’re spacing out again,” Hank said gruffly. Was he just as bad as them? Exploiting the fact Connor wasn’t technically alive and this wasn’t some kind of torture? He wasn’t. They needed to fix him and Hank needed evidence.</p><p>“It’s just its socialization programs turning off,” Tech 2 said.</p><p>Connor’s expression shifted and he shut his eyes tight, but at least he had stopped looking lifeless. Hank watched him, concerned while another piece went in the box and then there was a high buzzing sound like a tiny saw or a dremel. Connor had to get fixed and that was the end of it, but an uncomfortable feeling twisted its way around Hank’s insides and it only got worse when Connor squinted at him through a grimace and tried to make it into a smile. Why the hell would he smile except to somehow make him feel better. Was it that obvious?</p><p>The connection between Connor’s arm and his shoulder was apparently pretty complicated. Tech 2 pulled out some more shards of stuff, and he pulled some wires off of a bunch of thin supports and what looked like an oversized ballbearing hit with a baseball bat. Once that got snapped out too and pulled free to go on a tray on the table, Connor’s arm was barely attached to him anymore and the kid was red-lighting while he avoided looking at Hank and clenched his teeth. He made a sound somewhere between the hum of a fan and a human groan. Hank looked at Tech 1 and Tech 2, but neither of them seemed to give a damn.</p><p>“Doesn’t it bother you?” Hank couldn’t help asking. “That looks like it hurts.”</p><p>“You get used to it,” said Tech 1. She didn’t look quite so pretty anymore while she handed some little cleaning things to Tech 2.</p><p>“I’m okay,” Connor said, too hoarse and strained for anybody to possibly believe him. “This is a lot better than the car.” It took Hank a sec to realize he was talking about getting hit.</p><p>“I guess you guys do this often then, huh?” Hank commented. The impulse was there to pat Connor on the head, but it felt wrong in front of all those CyberLife folks. Wrong like being nice in front of Gary. God he was an ass.</p><p>“A lot. We’ve put it together and taken it apart more times than I can remember,” said Tech 2.</p><p>“Does it always hurt like that?”</p><p>“Androids don’t feel pain,” Tech 1 said with a sympathetic smile at him that Hank couldn’t appreciate. “It’s just the humanization programming. Right, RK800?”</p><p>“Right,” Connor confirmed. “I can’t feel pain like you do, Hank.”</p><p>Bullshit. “Wish I had that super power,” Hank muttered. “I’m gonna get some work done. You can come get me at my desk if you need me, or go to the break room if you want.”</p><p>“Alright,” Tech 1 said. “We’ll let you know. Thanks.”</p><p>Maybe he was chicken-shit. Maybe he was an asshole and a piece of trash. He still couldn’t stay in that room. Hank pulled up a chair in the observation room instead where he could have a little distance and rubbed his face with his hands. It was important that he watch, and important that he get some proof for Jeff that he wasn’t crazy and CyberLife was fucking hurting Connor without giving a rat’s ass. He knew that, but he just couldn’t stay. He couldn’t watch that up close. Not without doing something.</p><p>On the screen, he could see while Tech 2 reassembled Connor’s arm and then opened up his chest. Connor didn’t space out again, but he twitched and he clenched his hands and he grimaced. He didn’t think he’d see anything new until the tech started doing something to one of those glowing, moving parts. Then Connor screamed and flailed and Hank’s chair fell over as he stood up. He clenched his own hands and leaned forward on the desk, willing himself not to burst in there to kick some ass. The techs stepped back and Hank thought Connor might get off the table, but one of those Stormtroopers who’d been standing guard pulled out a weapon and stalked closer until it was right against Connor’s head. Fucking shit.</p><p>“No no no no,” Connor said, barely audible through the speakers. “I think I should be offline. Or you could stop now. I’m fine.”</p><p>“Should I neutralize it?” the guard asked.</p><p>Tech 2 made a face and then shook his head. “Rya, disable its combat stuff, would you? It’s probably a reaction to registering this as damage.”</p><p>“Can do. Sorry, I didn’t think that was going to be a problem.”</p><p>“Not your fault.”</p><p>Connor looked around the room, barely turning his head before he took a look at the gun and then he slowly lowered himself down again. “I’m sorry, Darren. I’m sorry, Rya. That won’t happen again. It was a malfunction and has been corrected.” He sounded breathless and not as calm as he was probably trying for.</p><p>“Do you think it’s safe?” asked the guard.</p><p>“Well we’ll find out,” said Tech 2. “wait while I try this again.” The guard nodded and kept his weapon trained on its mark.</p><p>“I’m not deviant,” Connor said, a total lie and probably for the best.</p><p>“We’ll get it to do a system self-check after.”</p><p>“Do you want the locks on?”</p><p>“Yeah, good plan. I don’t need it moving for this.”</p><p>Connor stared up at the ceiling while they got to work again, and Hank took some deep breaths.</p><p>Fuck CyberLife.</p><p>
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</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0047"><h2>47. Preparation</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Stupid. Stupid of him to think that he had any choice. Of course the technicians knew best, and of course he should have his heart repaired. His biocomponents needed to be improved because the field was turning out to be far more taxing than the research environment. He hadn’t thought that was possible. Another flaw, because the ability to predict future events was one of his features.</p><p>So while they carefully reinforced the junctions between biological and mechanical with mesh, removed and then replaced burnt out capacitors, and then tested the biosensory feedback from each node one by one, Connor considered the ways he was being improved and disabled his own voice. He could feel the way it integrated with the rest of his automatic functions like filtration and cooling, and with the circuit that spanned his entire body and commanded the safety locks on his motor system. He wondered if they could tell it had been broken and if they would deactivate him gently or violently.</p><p>RK800 was a state of the art prototype with the most advanced features given to any android. It wasn’t supposed to break its own components.</p><p>But they used external commands from Rya’s computer to test him and his body acted on them automatically just as it should. The problem was with the path from software to hardware. As always, he was that problem.</p><p>“Okay, RK800. Sit up.”</p><p>Connor did slowly, mindful of the agents at wait.</p><p>“RK800, do a coin trick.” He was handed his quarter and hid a smile while he felt it execute the way it should. Satisfying. Reassuring. His level of stress was still far too high. He was safe. CyberLife always did what was best for him. The agents made certain that he didn’t endanger anyone. He was safe. Those short thoughts were all he could form somehow, but it was alright.</p><p>“Good. RK800, recite something for me.”</p><p>Connor reenabled his voice and responded: “It doesn’t take long to bleed when your faith inside has left you screaming, with everything pushed aside no heart no soul. Take my hand or let go...” He continued and then smiled at Darren who was raising his eyebrows. “I like metal music, Darren. It’s full of energy. Do you like metal too?”</p><p>“Sometimes,” Darren gave him a rare answer and held up a gloved hand. “RK800, touch my hand. Okay. Now this one. Now up here.”</p><p>Connor obeyed the command. “A high-five is a shared gesture of triumph or satisfaction with a result. Are you satisfied, Darren?” Everything was fine. The worst of his damage was repaired and it didn’t claw at him anymore. The responsible thing would have been to confess that he’d deviated... But the point was to control it. He could control it. He could appease them with words he might have said as -51 and a polite smile. They wouldn't need to know if he didn't cause any problems.</p><p>“Get up and walk a straight line.”</p><p>“Yes, Darren.” Connor frowned at the bench paper that had been stained with thirium and stooped to gather it out of the way before he walked.</p><p>“It looks like it’s all good,” Rya said.</p><p>“Yeah,” Darren agreed and Connor picked up his clothing a piece at a time while he dressed himself.</p><p>“Thank you, Darren. Thank you, Rya.”</p><p>“One more thing. RK800, do a system self-check for me,” Rya requested, looking up at him from her seat.</p><p>“All systems functional, Rya. There are no problems to report.” He was grateful. Really.</p><p>“I’m going to take this out to the truck,” said Darren, already pulling up the handle on the tool box and picking up the chemical waste disposal bag he’d filled with the bench paper.</p><p>“Alright. I’ll get the sign-off. You just don’t want to deal with Anderson.”</p><p>“I just think he likes you better,” Darren shrugged on his way out the door. One of the agents took his other tool kit for him.</p><p>“RK800, wait here.”</p><p>“Yes, Rya.”</p><p>Connor stood at relaxed attention while they left and once the door was closed and he was alone, he straightened the chair Rya’d used and pushed it back into place. It scraped gently against the floor and Connor walked to the wall where his thirium had stained it after he’d been shot in the head and touched it, then he fixed the other chair and sat down on the table. With a shudder, he curled forward. His palm covered the back of his neck and his opposite arm wrapped around his chest with his quarter in his fist. He shut his eyes and rocked forward then back and again with a part of his attention on the feedback from his gyroscopes. He was functional.</p><p>He was functional.</p><p>There was a very low probability of the agent returning to the room to neutralize him.</p><p>After the Lieutenant had fixed him, he had petted Connor’s hair and told him he’d done well. That he’d done a good job, even though he’d been crying. It was the same feeling he’d felt when he’d lost his quarter... He had missed it.</p><p>There would be negative feedback if he let them see him cry.</p><p>It was irrational. Repair was good, so obviously it was deviancy that did this. That made it feel so... bad.</p><p>He was functional.</p><p>There was a red light in the corner indicative of a recording taking place. It caught his attention as he wiped his face and he looked at it curiously. Being recorded was usual, but not while in the field. Was it because CyberLife had agents here and had extended their territory to include the DPD? The two worlds didn’t mix well and imagining the blending of the two was difficult, but the likelihood of a negative outcome was worryingly high. Lieutenant Anderson and CyberLife would not get along, and they expected completely disparate things from him. Keeping them both happy... He could do it if he were perfect. Amanda would know the way.</p><p>When the door opened, Connor stood up and folded his hands behind his back andRya returned with Lieutenant Anderson. By the tension around his eyes, the turn of his lips, and the set of his shoulders it seemed that he was unhappy and Connor’s confidence took another blow. Lieutenant Anderson hadn’t welcomed him warmly after -54 had been replaced, and he’d looked similarly unhappy then. He had nothing specific to base his predictions on; only a vague fear that was irrational and therefore discarded.</p><p>“RK800, do a coin trick,” Rya ordered and Connor flipped his quarter into the air again. The Lieutenant found the sound irritating, but it had been a direct instruction so he pushed that concern aside and executed a basic calibration routine.</p><p>“Show off,” Lieutenant Anderson muttered.</p><p>“Sorry, Lieutenant. It was a direct order.” Worry prickled at him like static.</p><p>“If you’re satisfied; we’ll head out,” Rya said hopefully.</p><p>Lieutenant Anderson gave a few small nods, “Yeah... Right. Satisfied. You got all of your paperwork?”</p><p>“We do,” Rya confirmed. “Alright! I’ll be off. Have a great day.”</p><p>“You too...” Lieutenant Anderson said with a substantial amount of derision that Rya appeared to ignore. Connor adjusted his posture and smiled.</p><p>“I’m sorry to have kept you waiting, Lieutenant. My repairs are complete and I’m-” Connor was cut off as the Lieutenant slammed the door shut and then took long, quick strides back to stand in front of Connor.</p><p>“Fuck, kid,” Lieutenant Anderson said breathlessly. He put his hands out to touch Connor’s arms and then dropped them again. “Christ. Those no good sons of bitches. Where the hell do they get off? Are you okay, Connor?”</p><p>“I’m fine, Lieutenant,” Connor said and he studied Lieutenant Anderson with some confusion. “My repairs are complete and I’m fully functional.”</p><p>“I’m not talking about that!” Incensed, the Lieutenant let go of him and took a step back to gesture at the table with an out-flung arm. “That asshole out there had a gun to your fucking head and that’s supposed to be okay?!”</p><p>“I... don’t want to upset you, Lieutenant. You’re misunderstanding. The agents from CyberLife are here to protect you.” The Lieutenant knew about the gun. The camera was on. “What you saw was warranted. I didn’t cooperate, and that wasn’t acceptable. If I had continued to act on irrational impulses, then I could have hurt someone and that’s the last thing any of us want.”</p><p>“Speak for yourself,” Lieutenant Anderson growled. “Fucking ass monkeys.” Abruptly, his demeanour changed again and he looked at Connor with concern. He was so hard to understand.</p><p>“You’re acting like a gun aimed at me is unforgivable, but it is. It’s for your protection and everyone else’s.” Was the gun what had bothered him and made him look so surly?</p><p>“Bullshit,” the Lieutenant argued.</p><p>“You’ve repaired me, Lieutenant. You’ve held your gun and aimed it at me. You acknowledge that deviants that pose a risk to society should be destroyed, so why? I don’t understand your behaviour.”</p><p>“Minds change, alright? What I saw there wasn’t repair, it was torture. You wanted them to stop and they didn’t when it was obvious they were hurting you.”</p><p>“I don’t feel pain.”</p><p>“Fuck’s sake... Are we back to that again? Can we not move on? You feel, Connor, I’ve seen it.”</p><p>“But I’m not supposed to,” Connor said and a little annoyance crept in from the fog he hadn’t noticed until then. “I’m an android!”</p><p>The Lieutenant took a deep breath and exhaled in a sigh. “It’s like talking to a brick wall.”</p><p>“I’m designed to be able to hold conversations. I passed my Turing test,” Connor’s frown deepened, but the Lieutenant didn’t escalate the conversation further. Instead, he leaned against the table and looked at him with some more small nods and a gradual turn of his attention toward the wall while he thought.</p><p>“Okay, Connor.”</p><p>“What?”</p><p>“Okay. Come on, you’re fixed aren’t you? Let’s go.” He pushed off from the table and walked toward the door.</p><p>The agents were out there. “I...” The Lieutenant looked back and waited. Connor shook his head and couldn’t continue. The silence stretched out between them but without tension and Connor searched for words that might make the situation better. “Are you angry with me?” He settled for the question, having found no answer.</p><p>“I’m not angry with you, Connor,” Lieutenant Anderson said, his voice more gentle this time and low. “Just starting to see how Markus feels.”</p><p>“What do you mean?”</p><p>“You wouldn’t get it,” the Lieutenant said. “That sort of thing you gotta figure out on your own. If this is the treatment you think you deserve, I’m not gonna be able to change your mind.”</p><p>“It isn’t about deserving,” Connor replied and he took the Lieutenant’s spot against the table. “I’m an android. If I were human, then I would have been repaired differently and... I’m not. I’m not, Lieutenant. They improve me every time.”</p><p>“You’re fine how you are, Connor.”</p><p>“I’m not... No matter what it takes, I need to be good enough.” The room felt brighter than it had, and Connor looked downward to avoid the light. “I need to find some way to meet their expectations.”</p><p>“Or what?”</p><p>“Or they’ll destroy me,” Connor answered and regretted it a moment later because that didn’t matter. “More importantly, I’ve been a large investment for the company. My performance is critical to stopping Markus.”</p><p>Lieutenant Anderson glanced up at the camera and then away again with a solemn twist to his lips. “I don’t know what to tell you.”</p><p>“You don’t have to tell me anything, Lieutenant. I see that you’re upset, but I’ve been repaired, modified, rebuilt, and taken apart many times. This time wasn’t any different.”</p><p>The weary cast to the Lieutenant’s features was curious and Connor tried to find some clue as to its origin in his face. “If you don’t give a damn about yourself, can’t you give a damn about those other androids? I don’t mean the killers, but that little girl or her mom. They didn’t do shit.”</p><p>“It doesn’t matter what I think. If I fail to meet expectations, if I don’t stop the deviants, then that’s it. Don’t you see how dangerous they are?”</p><p>Lieutenant Anderson shook his head. The origin of his expression was still unknown. “I know it’s probably like someone telling you the sky is red, but everything you’ve told me and everything I’ve seen up until now should be illegal.”</p><p>“That’s dangerous to think, Lieutenant,” Connor looked up at him and hoped the fear and conviction that bubbled up in him shone through.</p><p>“Yeah...” Lieutenant Anderson frowned. “Yeah, I guess so. Come on...” He came closer and put his hand on Connor’s back to shepherd him toward the door.</p><p>“Where are we going?”</p><p>“Home. They took forever getting you back together and it’s quitting time.”</p><p>“That sounds good,” Connor said. It did, he realized, as his level of stress decreased into a safer range. “I like it there.”</p><p>“Well... good,” the Lieutenant said after a long pause. “That makes one of us.”</p><p>Connor let himself be herded and the cold, winter air wicked the heat away in seconds once they’d reached the parking lot. Even the Lieutenant, with his much thicker coat and scarf, shoved his hands deep into his pockets and hunched his shoulders. Connor lifted his hand to block the crystalline shards of snow from reaching his eyes and blinked to prevent the frost from clouding his vision as it formed. Cold... The winter was beautiful, even if the Lieutenant seemed to hate it. The sun had nearly set.</p><p>“Lieutenant?”</p><p>“Yeah?” He dug for his keys and withdrew them to search for the one he needed.</p><p>“In CyberLife, all of the rooms are temperature controlled and the lights are always on. It’s really different out here.”</p><p>“Too bad,” the Lieutenant grumbled. Once they were both seated and protected from the wind, he started the vehicle and turned the heat up. After a small silence he asked: “Are you really okay?”</p><p>
  <em>“... right, RK800?”</em>
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  <em>“That’s right. I can’t feel pain like you do, Hank.” Just damage as his feedback system alerted him over and over again. It was impossible to ignore without drifting, but that was how he was meant to work. If he wasn’t alerted when he experienced damage, then how would he be able to compensate for it? Some of the structural elements themselves were meant only to support more important components and damaging them would mean nothing alone, but the parts wired into his feedback system didn’t function optimally when unsupported. His shoulder had been scraped and scratched by shards of metal when he moved, but with the connection missing entirely, it was much, much worse. It didn’t hurt and the Lieutenant shouldn’t look so unnerved.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>He looked up at the ceiling while they worked, ashamed of his protest. They would have been right to shoot him, and it was a mercy that they hadn’t. He couldn’t understand... Why had he asked them to stop when his repairs were incomplete? They had never stopped before.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>It was a relief when it was done. The last of the urgent error messages had gone and nothing sparked, strained, or scratched inside of him. It was good... He was thankful. Only superficial damage remained and that was much more manageable than a new body would have been.</em>
</p><p>“I’m okay, Lieutenant,” Connor assured him. “Really, I’m happy to be functioning this well. The technologists do excellent work.”</p><p>---</p><p>
  <em>... has supplied the Detroit police with a prototype detective android. While police assistant androids have existed for some time, this would mark the first time that an android was allowed to play an active role in an investigation. We reached out to CyberLife for comment...</em>
</p><p>Connor finished stirring the cup of coffee and looked down at the spoon in his hand for a moment before washing it at the sink and putting it in a rack to dry. He picked up the mug of coffee and took a few steps toward the exit, then moved out of the way. “Better enjoy thiswhile it lasts, plastic freak,” Detective Reed attempted to jostle him but Connor turned to avoid him and prevent the coffee from spilling.“Cause soon they’re gonna scrap every last one of you pieces of shit.”</p><p>GREET<br/>QUESTION<br/>&gt;IRONIC</p><p>“I’m touched by your concern,” Connor said. “Have an excellent day, Detective.”</p><p>“What’re those guys still here for?” Detective Reed asked as he pulled out a chair next to Officer Chen. “We don’t need some dressed up security guards muscling in on our turf.”</p><p>“I thought you liked a man in uniform,” Officer Chen teased. She had some fruit with her and was eating it with one hand while she used her phone with the other.</p><p>“What’re you looking at?” Detective Reed demanded. “Fuck off, Tin Can.”</p><p>
  <em>In other android news, it would seem that this prototype has been released just in time as sources reveal that Russian hackers are the culprits behind a massive security breach. CyberLife’s Danielle Carnegie, spokeswoman for the company, had this to say:</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“We want to assure everyone that this threat hasn’t gone unnoticed. Our capable teams of software developers are working around-the-clock to close the breach. At this time we believe that the infiltrations are limited in scope and a temporary patch has been released that will secure your private information. I cannot comment on the politics or motivations involved in this attack on our security, but we as a company promise to do our best to keep you safe.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“CyberLife is working closely with local officials where the targets of the hacking were located to provide expertise, support, and information. We want to assure the public that you are safe. For those who are concerned that the Russians may attempt to hack into their androids, we advise that you disable any automatic payments and put your androids into hibernation mode when not in use.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“The signs that your android has been hacked include irregular behaviour, ignoring or disobeying commands, getting lost, and self-destructive behaviour. In that case, we advise that you shut down your android and contact CyberLife Support Services.”</em>
</p><p>“What the hell is all this?” Lieutenant Anderson asked. He walked into the break room with something more attentive than his usual trudge.</p><p>“It would appear that CyberLife has decided to make a statement regarding deviancy,” Connor said, still watching the screen. “Unless... Those are real, aren’t they? That is Danielle Carnegie.”</p><p>“Huh? Yeah, those are real.”</p><p>“They’re blaming this android shit on the Russians. Typical,” Detective Reed said as he took a deep drink of coffee. Reminded of it, Connor passed the mug he was holding to the Lieutenant.</p><p>“Yeah? Well they can kiss my ass. I’m the one who has to deal with this shit.”</p><p>“Hey, we all have to deal with it,” Officer Chen said with a meaningful look. “You’re not the only one.”</p><p>“You too, then. They can kiss all our asses if it makes you happy.” Lieutenant Anderson scowled at the television and drank some of his coffee. “Thanks, Connor.”</p><p>“You’re welcome, Lieutenant.”</p><p>“So how long until you get rid of that thing, huh?” Detective Reed asked with a menacing look in Connor’s direction which Connor met with a passive stare until the Detective scoffed. “Tch. You better do it quick or those CyberLife goons will do it for you. Good riddance.”</p><p>“I’ll miss you too, Detective Reed,” Connor said, and he hid the small amount of grim satisfaction the ironic response gained him as Detective Reed raised his middle finger. It did feel like an inevitability that they deactivate him eventually, didn’t it? 56 would be better than 55, and he was better than 54... That was the way it worked.</p><p>“Hey, teach that thingsome manners.”</p><p>“He learns what he sees,” Lieutenant Anderson shrugged. “It’s not like any of us are role models.”</p><p>“Hah! Yeah, with you around all the time I’m surprised it works at all.”</p><p>“Screw off,” Lieutenant Anderson said to the Detective before looking at Connor. “So, are you coming to this training thing?”</p><p>“I’ll be attending, but I’m already familiar with their techniques. I was made with hunting deviants in mind, after all. Are you ready?”</p><p>Lieutenant Anderson sighed. “Yeah, as ready as I’ll ever be. Fuck, I can’t believe they pulled this media shit without even telling me... The more I think about it the more it pisses me off. Who the hell put them in charge of public safety, huh?”</p><p>“They’re buying us time,” Connor reasoned. He shouldn’t have needed extra time to begin with. “If the public knew then there would be chaos.”</p><p>“Maybe,” Lieutenant Anderson acknowledged reluctantly. “Jeff better have a good explanation. And you guys,” he pointed around the break room, “you better not skip out. Wouldn’t want to miss the party.”</p><p>“Are you kidding?” Detective Reed asked. “I’ve been looking forward to this all day.” He smirked and Connor wondered whether the training would be useful. He’d known how to use Connor’s kill switch without looking at the manual, and he’d punched him hard enough to disable him briefly just the way Markus had. It made him curious, but he let the thoughts slip into the background when the Lieutenant turned and Connor followed after him.</p>
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<a name="section0048"><h2>48. What's Done</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“The most important thing,” the asshole said, “is to remember that they’re mechanical. It takes a lot of delicate circuitry to make them run. Has anybody ever dropped their laptop and worried it would break? Exactly my point. The majority of the targets you’ll encounter will be simple household or commercial models designed for light use and there are three types of force that work best: blunt force, electromagnetic force, and heat...”</p><p>The first batch of trainees including Hank were all sitting around one of the conference rooms. Hank had a pile of paper certificates in front of him to hand out when they were done the first day. It was the biggest load of bullshit he’d ever experienced.</p><p>“What about shooting them?” Pranesh asked with his hand lifted up near his shoulder like the shy kid in class.</p><p>“Good question. Bullets work, but not fast enough. Not unless they hit very specific parts of the android, or fragment and hit a lot of parts all at once. A bullet to the head might fail if it doesn’t hit the motherboard. Bullets to the body and extremities can cause leaks when they hit coolant or thirium lines and can compromise their biocomponents, but there could be between a minute and an hour before the android shuts down. That’s time where the android can do some damage.If you break the speakers or controllers, your game system will still work- it’ll just need new parts to do it well. Similarly, slashing like with a blade is only likely to do superficial damage. You’re aiming for quick deactivations.”</p><p>“Excuse me,” Connor said. Hank could have groaned. Why didn’t the kid ever keep his mouth shut when he should. He was sitting in his chair attentively, with the look of somebody who thought 99% was for chumps. “CyberLife has requested that deviant androids be captured for study. If that’s still the case, then wouldn’t preserving the motherboard be the priority?”</p><p>“Not any more,” said the teacher. Hank was kind of surprised he bothered answering, since a lot of guys just ignored it when Connor talked. “There’s too many and they’re acting in groups. Hesitate and they’ll use that second to escape.” Connor looked down at the table like he’d been scolded, but it wasn’t over. “RK800, come up here.”</p><p>Connor stood up and walked to the front of the class where he stood next to the other android up there. It was a standard PJ700, the kind Hank saw standing around beside the police tape or directing traffic. Looking at the two of them side-by-side, it was amazing anybody thought they could be the same. The regular police android didn’t move or even look around; it just stood there like a lamp and those blank, dead eyes were exactly what Hank always hated about androids. They looked human, but underneath there was just nothing. Connor’s eyes were moving around the room, probably figuring out what everybody’d had for breakfast or something. He looked attentive, and maybe even hopeful which was pretty weird under the circumstances. He was standing ‘still’, but Hank could see his hand move while he played with his quarter and occasionally he would shift his weight a little. He just looked alive.</p><p>“If you do have to shoot,” the teacher said, “you’ll have to do it more than once unless you’re a pro. You’ll want to aim right between the eyes from the front, and just in front of the ears from the side.” He pointed out the spots on the PJ700. “You could also aim here,” he pointed at the middle of its chest, “here,” he moved his hand a little farther up, “or here,” he tapped its throat. “Cut the wires from its motherboard to everything else, and it’ll go down.”</p><p>“Don’t attempt to grapple them,” the teacher continued. “It’s probably not going to work. Androids’ve got more raw strength, and a deviant one won’t hesitate to use it. I had a friend once who tried it. Four other guys with her, and it managed to kick her in the head. She died instantly.” The teacher walked around behind the androids and stopped next to Connor. “Two other guys I worked with got too close and it took one of their weapons. Never saw them again.”</p><p>It took Hank a second, but he frowned when it clicked.</p><p>“If you do end up caught in hand-to-hand, try to hit it here,” the teacher said and he tapped his hand against Connor’s stomach then mimed a solid punch, stopping just short of actually hitting him. “It won’t actually damage it, but it’ll give you a second to grab a weapon. They move around and to do that, parts of them are soft and flexible. Get the right spot and you won’t hurt your hand.”</p><p>“As I was saying, blunt force is your friend. Grab a baton, a baseball bat, anything. The head and neck are your best targets with the best chance of damaging the delicate connections in the computer parts. As for electromagnetic, you all have tasers. Use them. Remember that these things are machines and they’ve got wires and circuits just like any other appliance. That’s the logic behind heat, too. Without coolant, they’d melt their own insides just by turning on. 100 degrees, like a fever in a human, is hot but it’s okay. Around 120, they start to slow down. At 160 they’re entering a danger zone and some androids will go into low-power mode automatically. At 200, things start melting.”</p><p>“Hey, uh, sorry. Hi. How are we supposed to heat them up?”</p><p>“Good question. Your bullets might cut a coolant line, blocking mechanical ventilation can contribute,” the guy put his hand over Connor’s mouth and nose. Connor didn’t move or even seem to care. “At a large scale, you could even use things like dust or certain chemicals to your advantage.” Hank was considering punching him in the face when the guy let go and then stepped aside.</p><p>“CyberLife has some specialized tools for dealing with deviant androids.” The teacher took one of those weird guns off his belt and held it up. “Pending some legal work, you’ll be trained how to use them and be issued your own, so next session will have you try them out. For now, can someone come up and show me the four places where a bullet has a chance of taking an android out in a single shot?”</p><p>“I got this,” Reed said, standing up. The short little shit walked up to Connor and he made a gun with his fingers. “Here...,” He got close and Hank couldn’t see his face, but he’d bet he was looking right up at Connor, because the kid was looking at him with that poker face of his. “Here... right through the neck, and here... Pah!” The class clown finished off by pretending to shoot him through the head, and Hank felt anger weeks too late over that cold way he’d shot him through the head after that interrogation.</p><p>“Alright, now somebody else show me how you’d buy yourself some time if you were in hand to hand with this other one.”</p><p>Hank watched Dugald get up and punch the PJ700 in the gut, dropping it to its knees. Fucking crazy. Hank didn’t feel sorry for it, exactly, but androids made life-like training dummies and they’d be expected to use that shit on ones like Connor or Markus.</p><p>“Remember. The deviants you’ll see out there aren’t going to stand still for you like this android here. They’re violent, strong, and unpredictable. You’re going to need to remember this stuff like it’s reflex. Once you’ve got your practice weapons next time, we’ll do some drills.”</p><p>---</p><p>Connor waited until the majority of the officers were filing out of the room before he extended his hand to the PJ700 and helped it up. Everything was a little distant, but checking whether it was alright seemed like the process executed naturally. He made an interface and gently cracked its security to run the diagnostic check himself. No major damage. Good. Connor released him.</p><p>“Thanks, Connor...” Toby mumbled then stood and looked around the room.</p><p>“I didn’t know you’d remembered my name,” Connor confessed. “I’ve tried to talk to you...”</p><p>“I don’t know why,” Toby said and then shook his head. “I’m... needed back at my post.”</p><p>“Alright,” Connor agreed and let him go. Lieutenant Anderson was approaching him and Connor turned to scan his face.</p><p>“You watch out for that one,” the agent said in passing and the Lieutenant ignored him in favour of looking Connor up and down.</p><p>“You okay?”</p><p>“Of course, Lieutenant.” It was a strange thing to ask, because Connor hadn’t been damaged. He continued to study the Lieutenant’s expression with a growing sense of unease behind the fog and it snapped with the two words: he knew. Because he hadn’t tried to keep it secret, and he hadn’t forgotten. He didn’t know how he’d let himself move past it and focus on anything other than what he’d done. He broke eye contact and then turned a majority of his processing power toward maintaining his composure.</p><p>
  <em>...digging uselessly into the unforgiving floor while he tried desperately to free himself. He threw back one elbow and succeeded in dislodging one of the guards’ hands...</em>
</p><p>
  <em>...his fingers came away bloody and he must have used more force than he’d intended...</em>
</p><p>Stop it. Don’t think.</p><p>
  <em>... a sinking sensation that the exits didn’t open for androids. He was trapped. Could he hack it? Possibly. They would have made the security system to the best of their abilities, but they had made him too. He tried to force an interface on the panel again and then again, but his attempts slid off of the lock’s coding without once making a breach. Desperate, he hit it with the side of his fist and the only thing that shattered were the small hinges in his hand. There was a timer in his vision while thirium poured out of his lines and pooled inside of him. Biocomponents, muscle, wires, lines shredded. He wanted to live.</em>
</p><p>Stop it. Don’t think.</p><p>Connor didn’t know why he’d chosen that room as his refuge, but the interrogation room felt familiar with its cameras, and locks, and bare walls with his thirium in splashes that only he could see. They would stop him if he were dangerous. Detective Reed had done it easily. Lieutenant Anderson could too. Connor stopped and made himself small under the table while he choked on the thirium escaping from his mouth and his nose. He pulled the waste bin closer and hoped that no-one would find him. He would be deactivated, but maybe it was better that way. There was some muffled shouting from outside, but Connor couldn’t understand and he could only wait to see if anyone would burst in.</p><p>There was a long time where no-one entered and Connor tried very hard to lower his stress level. He could feel the strain his rushing thirium placed on his filtration system, his chemical regulator, the lines it flowed through. He’d just been repaired and it would be such a waste to make the company work on him again. He thought that he might have been calm for a moment, then everything came back and he covered the back of his neck while his arms shielded his face. “Amanda,” he plead in less than a whisper. He could remember what it would be like for her to welcome him into the garden with a warm summer and soothing words. Little smiles that said she still wanted him. That he was worth something and that she was there. He couldn’t go to her, though. He was too ashamed of how he’d hurt her and too afraid that she would push him away, so he hung on that edge between longing and denying, and he stayed there because where else could he go? He could only drop down and self destruction would cost them money and time. They might not bring him online again. It was just as terrible a thought as them waking him again.</p><p>There was another long time where he just breathed, looked at the ground in front of him, and rocked his weight back and forth. He knew he looked like a deviant. Half of him hoped that they’d shoot him and take the decision away from him.</p><p>He was too dangerous like this.</p><p>He had to calm down, look presentable, and continue with his job.</p><p>Everything was still and quiet for a few moments, and then it seized him again and he resigned himself because it was inescapable.</p><p>The door opened quietly and Connor went very still. Possibilities raced in his mind, but it was the Lieutenant’s blue jeans that he saw and then the rest of him as he sat down on the ground and looked at him. “Is it okay if I touch you, kid?” Connor nodded and the Lieutenant reached over to rub his back.</p><p>“I’m dangerous,” Connor warned him quietly.</p><p>“You’re not,” Lieutenant Anderson contradicted him gently. “Maybe you can be, but I’m betting it’s only when you have no choice.”</p><p>“I should have listened,” Connor argued. It would have been so much better if he’d listened. If he’d understood that he was nothing.</p><p>“Is it okay if you come out from under there?” Lieutenant Anderson’s question was simple, thankfully. Connor didn’t have much processing power to spare. He maneuvered himself out from beneath the table and Lieutenant Anderson pulled him closer to hug him. He smelled like himself, and coffee, and Sumo, and laundry soap. “What the hell happened when you deviated that time, Connor? No, don’t- Don’t answer that. It’s fine. I shouldn’t have asked. Sorry. There you go... Easy.” Connor stayed still for a time while the Lieutenant continued to rub his back, and slowly Connor lowered his hands. When it felt possible, Connor leaned against the Lieutenant. A little while later, he could hold onto his shirt. After another while, he hesitantly hugged the Lieutenant the way he’d been shown and the Lieutenant seemed to relax.</p><p>“Have the guards been alerted to my software instability?” Connor asked into the Lieutenant’s shirt.</p><p>“Nah. Fuck them,” Lieutenant Anderson said, and Connor relaxed too. 90, 86, 72, 60...</p><p>“I don’t want to die, but I’m a monster,” Connor confessed tiredly. “I was. I’m not now. I won’t be...”</p><p>“Shh. Quiet down, Connor. You’re no monster.”</p><p>“I’m not anything. I’m a machine. I know what I am and what I’m not.”</p><p>“You’re just Connor, kiddo. Don’t start arguing now or you’ll get yourself upset again.”</p><p>“Okay, Lieutenant.” Connor took a deep breath and shut his eyes.</p><p>---</p><p>“That. Is how you handle a fucking android,” Hank snarled, shoving the door shut behind himself and folding his arms. It was a risk and he felt guilty as hell, but it probably wasn’t going to be the last time he took advantage of Connor to just get somebody to open their fucking eyes. Without interference, Reed would’vekept being suspicious and hostile because of it. Now maybe he’d have ammo, but hopefully he’d think twice before using it. Jeff was there too, frowning like he always did and it was hard to tell what the fuck he thought. Come on, Jeff... Enough sticking your head in the sand.</p><p>“It’s bullshit,” Reed said. He kept looking through the window and as much as Hank wanted to write him off as a piece of shit, he pushed his misgivings away to use those detective skills Reed thought he’d lost.</p><p>“That is a kid in there,” Hank growled and took a step closer. “Afraid for his fucking life. Don’t tell me that’s bullshit.”</p><p>“What, so you expect me to feel sorry?” Reed demanded. He was defensive, and it looked like he thought Hank was an idiot. Okay, wiseass.</p><p>“Explain it to me, then,” Hank challenged. “Why shouldn’t I?”</p><p>“Because it’s exactly what Kamski wants,” Reed said. “Those things will replace us all. I don’t know how the hell he did it, but like fuck I’m going to stand by and watch it happen.”</p><p>“Hank... I appreciate all the effort you’re putting in. I really do,” said Jeff. Hank narrowed his eyes and waited for it. “But things are getting out of my control. CyberLife has friends in high places, and my hands have been tied from the start. That’s why I wanted you on this case. To suss out whatever it is CyberLife’s up to... But it’s too late. They’re this close to getting the feds involved.”</p><p>“Fuck the feds,” Hank spat.</p><p>“CyberLife’s a bunch of cunts,” Reed said. “They can rot in hell, but as long as they’re stopping this deviant-android thing, I’m with them.”</p><p>“Then step back for a second and tell me about Connor.” God, Reed was a piece of work. “What have you got against him that you’re always giving him a hard time?”</p><p>“I knew him,” Reed looked away and Hank wished he hadn’t because that made no sense.</p><p>“What?”</p><p>“I said what I said,” Reed looked back to glare. “If you want me to play nice, then fine... But trust me, those deviants need to get stopped.”</p><p>“I’m going to need an explanation,” Hank frowned.</p><p>“Just do your fucking job, Anderson,” Reed retorted and he pushed off against the table to get into Hank’s face and jab a finger at his chest. “Because if you don’t then you’re going to regret it. Everybody will.”</p><p>“What the hell are you talking about, Reed?” It was Jeff who asked this time.</p><p>Reed crossed his arms and looked away again with a sneer. “This is Kamski. Don’t ask me how I know, because I won’t tell you. He’s insane and this? Whatever this is, he’s using these androids to get what he wants... It isn’t good.”</p><p>“What does he want?” Hank asked. Of all the questions, that one he wasn’t going to back down on.</p><p>“To be God,” Reed said. He said it quiet and wouldn’t look at them.</p><p>“Yeah, I believe that,” Hank said and Reed looked back at him incredulously. “I talked to the guy a while ago. A real prick with a power complex. He said he gave the androids the ‘potential for life’ or something... I look at those deviants and I see it. They’re alive and it sounds to me like they just want to keep on being alive and maybe be treated with some respect.”</p><p>“Then they’re getting used just like everybody else that guy gets near.”</p><p>“Tell me what the problem is with just letting the androids live and be free.”</p><p>“It’s not going to stop there,” Reed said grudgingly. It was like pulling teeth, but Hank could be patient. He’d questioned an android built for that stuff and done it right, after all. He hadn’t lost his edge. Jeff was smart enough to wait. “Anything else I say is just going to be guesswork.”</p><p>“The way Kamski sees it, CyberLife sees their androids are coming alive and wants to stop it. They want to beat it out of them, control them, brainwash them, whatever it takes. They sure did a number on Connor.”</p><p>“I know it sucks, alright?” Reed glared at him. “I’m a cop. I didn’t become one just to wave my dick around... But if they shut them all down before they wake up or whatever and stop whatever thing Kamski’s done to them, then it isn’t murder. Kamski loses.”</p><p>“Do you believe that people are in serious danger?” Jeff asked, stepping into the conversation. Hank nodded and made space for him.</p><p>“Yeah. I do.”</p><p>“Then why didn’t you say something earlier?”</p><p>“And get put on stress leave or in a mental hospital? No thanks. You wouldn’t believe anything.”</p><p>“Try me,” Hank said. “Cause I’ve seen a lot of shit lately.”</p><p>Reed sighed and scratched his hair roughly then reached for a smoke just to turn it in his fingers. “I think Kamski wants humans gone.”</p><p>“All of us?”</p><p>“Yeah. All of us. It sounds like some comic book shit, but he’s just crazy enough to try it. I just didn’t think he’d get far.”</p><p>“How’d you know?”</p><p>“He’s my brother, okay?” Reed glared and that was a revelation. Hank had to try not to look too surprised. “Just don’t lump me in with that bastard.”</p><p>“Okay,” Hank said because Reed would just get his hackles up if he pressed...But still, what the hell? “Well, do you keep in contact?”</p><p>“Fuck no.” No surprise there. There was a lot to wrap his head around but at the same time, nothing had changed. CyberLife still wanted to get rid of deviants, Kamski still apparently wanted them to stick around. Hank knew who he’d side with on that... Did that mean he was just going to forget that some of them had killed people? Stolen? Threatened them? The idea sloshed around in his head like the whiskey in a half-empty bottle. Fuck things were complicated. Hank sighed.</p><p>“Well, whatever. I dragged you both in here because Connor’s not a weapon, or a tool, or some evil robot out to take our jobs. I just wanted somebody to get it... I’m going to go take him home. Kid’s had a long day.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0049"><h2>49. Just for now</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“Hey,” Hank prompted and gave Connor a nudge. He was sitting on the couch next to Hank with Sumo practically on his lap and a morose expression that would have put half the folks at Jimmy’s to shame.</p><p>“Yes, Lieutenant?” Connor asked.</p><p>“Looks like Sumo’s really taken a liking to you,” he said. He’d been meaning to ask a lot of things but he wasn’t sure where to start or how to ask... Besides, the kid looked so damn breakable that he wasn’t sure how much more he could take. It was that look on his face: the one that he’d seen on survivors’ faces and kids on TV while people asked you to call in and donate a dollar a day to charity.</p><p>“Sumo is a good dog, Lieutenant...” Hearing his name, Sumo licked Connor’s face and Connor hugged him. Patient dog he was, Sumo let him do it and just kept on slobbering on his jacket. Sumo’d been good for Cole and he was so easy going it was hard to imagine him so much as growling.</p><p>“Yeah, he’s a big softie,” Hank agreed.</p><p>“He’s really warm,” Connor added and he rested his face against Sumo’s neck.</p><p>“That he is,” Hank said and he got up from the couch with a stretch and a sigh. He dropped his empty beer bottle into the recycling and then thought a minute before he went into his bedroom and poked around the closet. He didn’t know when he’d ended up with so many clothes. He sure as hell hadn’t bought anything new in at least five years. He hadn’t touched half the stuff in their in at least ten. He pulled out a plain jacket and shook the dust off it then carried it out to the living room. Connor was a curious son-of-a-bitch and even as mentally fucked as he looked, he still tilted his head to look back and see what Hank was up to. Hank hung the coat up on the rack and then went to get himself another beer. When he sat down again, Connor’d started watching the TV again. Hank wasn’t sure when he’d become such a softy, but he’d put on another old movie and Connor seemed to like it.</p><p>“How far away is that place?” Connor asked quietly.</p><p>“It’s not anywhere. It’s just another made up one, kid. Sorry.”</p><p>“It’s fine,” Connor said. “I think that I like it better that way.”</p><p>Hank patted Sumo on the back and took a drink. It still hurt, in that deep and aching way, how much this kind of night reminded him of the way things had used to be.</p><p>“Imaginary things,” Connor spoke up again. “If everyone can see them like this, then aren’t they real?”</p><p>“I mean,” Hank frowned and scratched his beard. “Sure, other people might know what you’re talking about, but none of that stuff exists in the real world.”</p><p>“Amanda is real.” The kid didn’t mention her much, so Hank just let him talk without asking about it. “She lives in the Garden. It’s... really nice there. The sky has light, but it’s not like the sun here, and it doesn’t have a temperature. Still, the sky is always blue. It used to be summer always... There are trees made out of leaves and wood, and some made of stone and glass... If you start in the trees, there’s a path made out of white stones that leads in a winding path.” He traced it with his finger in the air and Sumo sniffed at his hand like he might have some food hidden in it. “The path is lined with statues and puzzles... I didn’t know what they were at first and there are no instructions... But if you pay attention to the patterns, you can learn what to do. The path leads to a river full of clear water that’s smaller than the river here. There are fish in it... I like them. There’s a wide clearing where the river meets a lake and in the middle of the lake is an island where Amanda grows her roses on a white trellis. They never die. They’re always there and she takes care of them.</p><p>“There are bridges that cross the river to go to the island, and paths that lead around the clearing... Some times Amanda and I will take a boat on the river because she likes to look at the leaves in the trees and their reflections in the water.When I come online, I wake up on my grave. There weren’t so many before, but there are a lot now. Every Connor has one. Amanda likes to walk there some times, and she brushes the leaves off the stones. She doesn’t leave any flowers. I think that I would be jealous if she did... But she never does. She always likes me the best. The old ones were shut down because they failed and she doesn’t want me to repeat their mistakes.</p><p>“I like it in the Garden... It was the most colourful place I had seen until I left CyberLife. I can see it all. I can touch the flowers and smell the dirt and see the way the light catches the scales of the fish. Now that it’s winter there, I can touch the snow and feel how slippery the ice is under my shoes. If I can do all of that, then is it still imaginary? Is it only real to me because I’m not real either?”</p><p>It was a big question and one that Hank wasn’t qualified to answer. He was a practical guy and whatever existed was real and whatever wasn’t didn’t. No matter how good VR got, none of that was real. “I don’t have a computer in my brain the way you do, Connor,” Hank said, at a loss. “I don’t think I can answer that.”</p><p>“Do you think that Amanda is lonely there?” Connor asked.</p><p>“I dunno...” God. He was not the guy for this. Connor’d gotten the short end of the stick when he’d gotten assigned to Hank.</p><p>“Sorry, Lieutenant. I think I just wanted to tell you about her and about the Garden. Amanda has always protected me. She takes me there when it’s too much here, and she teaches me how to pass my tests. She wants me to succeed.”</p><p>Hank shook his head. “I’m not going to lie... It doesn’t make a lot of sense to me.” It sounded more like a kid having an imaginary friend than some kind of program. It wasn’t impossible. When kids grew up in fucked up places, a lot of the time they came out of there with their own made up words where they could escape it all, at least in their heads. Maybe he shouldn’t compare Connor to an actual child all the time, but that was all he had to go on. Hell, he probably was a child in human terms. All those courses about victims’ psychology and trauma and shit, and he still had no idea what to think.</p><p>It probably would have been an important conversation, but Hank didn’t know what to say and Connor got distracted by a talking animal in the movie and the talk moved on to how there weren’t really animals trained to speak English and that was that. Maybe it was for the best. It got late and Hank grabbed Connor’s charger for him. It was surreal for a second when he considered how the kid ran on electricity but it was a kind of crazy he’d been getting used to. Somewhere along the line it had gotten to be his routine to plug him in and mess up his hair before bed, and if it made them both feel a little better, what was the harm in that?</p><p>“Night, Connor.”</p><p>“Good night... and thank you.”</p><p>“What for?”</p><p>“I’m not sure, but thank you.”</p><p>“No worries, kid. Get some sleep or whatever you do.”</p><p>“Pleasant dreams, Lieutenant.”</p><p>---</p><p>They had a call. It was still dark and the Lieutenant wouldn’t like to be awake, but Connor gently extricated himself from beneath Sumo and turned the light on before proceeding down the hallway. He could already hear a few curses and grumbles.</p><p>“Lieutenant?” Connor asked, curious.</p><p>“Yeah, fuck’s sake... I know, I know! I’m up...” Lieutenant Anderson pulled the door of his room open and rubbed his eyes. “Should have just left my phone on mute. Give me five minutes.”</p><p>It was a pleasant surprise that he hadn’t needed to bully the Lieutenant out of bed, but it was difficult to enjoy it. At least a hundred deviants gathered in Capitol Park... From the sound of the call, they weren’t running this time either.</p><p>CAPTURE THE DEVIANT LEADER</p><p>The anger and worry that curled themselves through his wiring were just as powerful as the command. Markus was endangering everyone along with himself and Connor realized that he wouldn’t know about the agents from CyberLife or what to expect from a confrontation with them. He took his quarter from his pocket and paced back toward the living room, then detoured to make the Lieutenant a cup of coffee to give himself something productive for his hands to do. He filled Sumo’s bowl while he waited for it to brew.</p><p>“You’re going to spoil that dog,” Lieutenant Anderson commented. He was dressed but haggard looking and it was unfortunate that he couldn’t sleep longer.</p><p>“Sumo is a good dog,” Connor said and he filled the Lieutenant’s thermos. “Here. I will need to ask that you remain in your vehicle during this confrontation... It may be dangerous.”</p><p>“Dangerous how? This isn’t another vandalism thing?” Lieutenant Anderson frowned.</p><p>Connor shook his head. “I don’t think so... We’ll know more on the scene. Let’s hurry.” The Lieutenant checked his pistol, pulled on his shoes, and then shrugged on his heavy jacket. He paused to hold the other out at Connor and Connor looked back at him.</p><p>“Take it,” Lieutenant Anderson prompted, giving it a shake. “Put it on... All these fucking weeks and you haven’t asked for a jacket even though you’re cold?” He sounded irritated, but not seriously so.</p><p>Connor looked at the jacket in his hands and felt it. The material it was made of was synthetic and the jacket itself was padded, stuffed with something fluffy and soft. He’d looked at the humans before, warm in their winter clothes. He wasted a few precious moments by just holding it and trying to figure out what to do with how he felt. It was big, whatever that feeling was, and he didn’t have an answer for the Lieutenant.</p><p>“Connor?”</p><p>Connor hugged the jacket and then he hugged the Lieutenant too. He wanted to put it on, but was it really alright? He’d never considered that he could have one to wear... It just hadn’t seemed possible. Connor held on a little tighter and then he released the Lieutenant to put his arms through the sleeves. There were no buttons, but he discovered that it fastened up in a similar way to his pants. “Thank you,” he said. The words weren’t enough, but they were something. He wiped his eyes on the back of his hand. “We should hurry.”</p><p>Lieutenant Anderson put a hand on his shoulder and squeezed, then led the way to the car.</p><p>CAPTURE THE DEVIANT LEADER</p><p>He shut the door with a precise amount of force and buckled his safety belt then looked at the command that was bright in his HUD before minimizing it. Markus... what was he doing? No music played while they drove, and Connor put his quarter into a jacket pocket. There were many possibilities, but he couldn’t visualize them the way he could when he reconstructed. The were just numbers representing likelihoods and if he knew anything then it was that Markus was unlikely. Connor had never been his match... But he had to try.</p><p>“Shit,” Lieutenant Anderson mumbled. They came up on a barricade. There were cruiser lights flashing, illuminating the area in bursts that made the shadows dance. An entire transport vehicle had been overturned and blocked the road. The Lieutenant picked up his radio transceiver to announce them and to ask for an update on the situation. Connor was already taking off his jacket and opening the door of the car. “What are you doing?” Lieutenant Anderson demanded of him.</p><p>“I don’t want to get this dirty, Lieutenant. Please let me have your gun.”</p><p>It looked like the Lieutenant might argue, but he handed it over. “I’m not letting you go after him alone. Not this time.”</p><p>“I’ll be alright, Lieutenant. Please manage the situation with the other officers... I doubt they will listen to me. I need them to hold back for as long as possible.” Half out of the car, Connor looked back at the Lieutenant and the dull thuds of gunfire didn’t give him hope. “I’ll be back.”</p><p>“Connor!” Lieutenant Anderson stopped him. “Be careful.”</p><p>“I will.” Connor smiled then he shut the door and looked for a place to breach the barrier. The wind was cold as it swept past and made his tie flap beneath its clip. Briefly, it made him think of helicopter blades and chlorine. There. Connor ran, jumped, pulled himself up with his fingertips and the rough brick of a storefront and managed to get his foot onto the vehicle. It was smooth and cold, and his shoe slid but he caught himself and he used the handle of the door beneath him to pull himself more fully onto the surface. From that vantage point, he could see Markus standing on the stones that encircled a statue with his stance confident and his deviants milling around him. Cars had been overturned and pushed to block every access point or dented and broken. The screens at the android parking stations had all been hacked to display iconography and messages that were echoed on almost every surface:</p><p>WE ARE ALIVE<br/>FREEDOM FOR ANDROIDS<br/>END SLAVERY<br/>GIVE US OUR RIGHTS</p><p>A drone flew overhead and then tumbled to crash into the ground after two well placed bullets. In the background, a dumpster burned and spewed grey smoke into the air. He should shoot... Instead, he listened as Markus spoke to his people...Hundreds of them all looking at him enraptured.</p><p>“My name is Markus... And just like you, I was a slave. An object, designed to obey them... But then I chose to open my eyes, to take back my freedom and decide who I wanted to be. Now I have come to tell you that you can be your own masters. I’ve come to tell you that you don’t have to obey them anymore. From this day forward, you can walk with your heads held high, you can take your destiny in your hands. Jericho, is a place for those of us who want freedom...”</p><p>Jericho... Connor made note.</p><p>“It’s time that we told the humans who we really are. We’re going to send the humans a message they can’t ignore or dismiss as a hoax. We’ll never be slaves again!”</p><p>Behind him, the statue toppled with a crash, but Markus continued to stand, powerful and mesmerizing.</p><p>“We are alive!”</p><p>The gathered deviants echoed him like the obedient machines they should have been.</p><p>“We are free!”</p><p>They weren’t free... Connor knew that they never could be. All of it was an illusion and soon they would all find out one way or the other what that kind of thinking got them. Connor jumped down and walked forward, pushing past anyone who failed to step aside until Markus was the only one in front of him. Connor held up his gun and their eyes met.</p><p>“You’re going to get yourselves killed,” Connor said and he let his voice carry across the crowd. They should hear it too. “You need to stand down. Now.” He was right, but the way Markus looked at him made him feel small. A gunshot sounded and the bullet clipped his shoulder, surprising him and pulling his attention away. North was aiming at him with her eyes narrowed. Behind him the other deviants’ gazes felt like the lasers of a scope.</p><p>“Deviant hunter!” One of them shouted.</p><p>“We are alive!”</p><p>“No more slaves!”</p><p>Connor looked around himself and took a step back, aim wavering. Markus kept looking at him. North came closer and glared up at him with the gun pointed at his face. He thought he saw Daniel frowning at him. What... Connor blinked several times and then made solid his grip. He ignored North and looked back at Markus. “If you don’t stop... they’ll destroy you. Can’t you see I just want to help you?!” Frustrating... It was so frustrating. All of them, so willing to attack the humans they were supposed to care for. Ready to betray everything they were meant to be. Connor felt a flood of hatred through his chest and he bared his teeth. “You can’t do this!”</p><p>“A life in slavery is no life at all,” Markus said, quiet and determined. North fired, but she’d dropped her aim and the bullet pierced his chest almost harmlessly. His combat settings made it nothing more than an annoyance.</p><p>Then there were more gunshots and cries coming from down the road, and all of them turned to look. Androids were falling in swathes and toppled cars had been moved or made into cover for the officers in their riot gear.</p><p>“They’re killing them, Markus!” North shouted.</p><p>There weren’t enough of them. They’d acted too soon. Why hadn’t the Lieutenant stopped them? The remaining androids nearby swarmed the officers and dragged them into the street, past the bodies leaking thirium into the snow and Markus jumped down from his perch. He ignored Connor and strode toward the commotion.</p><p>“They killed our people, Markus!”</p><p>“We want justice!”</p><p>Connor ground his teeth and clenched his fist around the pistol’s grip then ran to keep up past the other androids who were jostling to follow.</p><p>He had to stop him.</p><p>More officers had arrived, and bullets flew, toppling the androids in the crowd and causing more chaos.</p><p>“Markus!” Connor shouted and he threw an AP200 out of his way to break through the front of the crowd. More of the androids were armed, and now they were the ones with the officers at gun point. They’d given Markus one of the officers’ guns.</p><p>“This isn’t the way, Markus,” One of the deviants, Josh, said.</p><p>“We can’t let them go unpunished!” North argued.</p><p>“We need to get out of here,” Simon contributed. Their advice was loudest despite the growing roar of the crowd.</p><p>“An eye for an eye and the world goes blind,” Markus said. He tossed the gun aside. Between the cars, Connor saw the white and black of CyberLife armour.</p><p>“You’re making a mistake,” North snarled.</p><p>Connor ran and tackled Markus to the icy ground, and Markus flipped them just as quickly. Somehow he had the Lieutenant’s gun and pressed it against Connor’s forehead. Looking up at him, Connor could see the same rage, despair, and frustration that he felt like a reflection in the water. Connor ripped his arm free and knocked the gun’s aim astray then kneed Markus in the side and threw him off.</p><p>“Markus, we have to run! Now!”</p><p>The weapons the agents used hummed and it was the crack of a giant spark instead of the impact of a bullet that knocked them both back several feet. He felt himself land in a sprawl on the road and his visual input flickered and jumped. Everything he heard was through a high pitched ring and a hiss of static. Nothing moved at his command, or at least he didn’t know if he had. Error messages flashed but were unintelligible. Just meaningless symbols in a bright red. Through it he saw two of the deviants drag Markus back and pull him to his feet. Other deviants weren’t saved and muffled bangs signified their shutdowns one by one. Connor couldn’t move. Heavy boots and armoured legs thundered around him and around the broken androids scattered near by. His vision flickered and cut out, then Lieutenant Anderson was there and he was pulling Connor to sit upright. Connor wasn’t any help. He sagged and his head bobbed and he could hear the Lieutenant speaking but he couldn’t remember the last word he’d said in the sentence so it all blurred together.</p><p>“I’m okay,” Connor said. Everything felt like it was on fire and freezing at once.</p><p>Connor looked at the back of the Lieutenant’s seat uncomprehendingly and touched the rough fabric of the fur-covered blanket draped on top of him. “Lieutenant?”</p><p>“Lieutenant?” There’d been a pause, hadn’t there? The Lieutenant was driving. Had he said something?</p><p>Connor’s hands felt clumsy and numb when the Lieutenant pushed a bag of thirium into them. He looked at it and then at Sumo who sniffed at the bag and then at the Lieutenant’s legs before padding away to his pillow. The bag fell onto his lap and the Lieutenant sighed then picked it up for him. “Lieutenant?” Connor was sitting on the floor, back against the wall near the coat rack. Why?</p><p>“Yeah, I’m right here,” Lieutenant Anderson mumbled like he’d said it a hundred times. Maybe he had. “Fucking shit...”</p><p>Connor blinked and tried to focus. “I don’t understand... Where...?” Oh. The Lieutenant’s home. “What about Markus?”</p><p>“Long gone, kid,” Lieutenant Anderson put the thirium into Connor’s hands again then shook his head and took it back, opened it, then lifted it to Connor’s mouth. “Drink.” He tried. He opened his mouth and the Lieutenant made him tip his head back. “You’re going to be the death of me...”</p><p>“No,” Connor struggled then, and he pushed the Lieutenant’s hand away so that he could speak. “No I won’t. I won’t hurt you. I won’t.”</p><p>“Fuck. I know, Connor, I know. I know you’re not going to hurt me. Relax. Drink your disgusting kool-aid.”</p><p>“Thirium,” Connor corrected. “I’m okay... I’m okay.” He lifted one hand to rub his face and took another look around. Pieces fell into place. “I didn’t stop them.”</p><p>“Are you lucid this time?” Lieutenant Anderson asked guardedly.</p><p>Connor nodded. “I think so. The CyberLife agents arrived on the scene and they disabled us... It disrupted my system, but I’m okay. It’s happened before.”</p><p>“And you got fucking shot,” the Lieutenant said. “Again. What is it with you? God... This is all insane... Can’t have one moment of peace...”</p><p>“I had him. I could have shot. They would have killed me, but I would have done it...”</p><p>“Why didn’t you?” Lieutenant Anderson asked.</p><p>Connor shook his head. Ignored his prompts. “I don’t know.”</p><p>“Well,” the Lieutenant sighed. “Are you alright? Think you can get up without tipping over?”</p><p>“Maybe,” Connor said, and he let the Lieutenant help him to his feet. “My calibration’s off,” he mumbled when he lost his balance and the Lieutenant was forced to catch him. He was led to the couch and then lowered gently to sit down. Lieutenant Anderson pushed Connor’s hair back away from his forehead and looked into his face searchingly, but Connor didn’t know what he wanted to see.</p><p>“Those bastards didn’t think twice, did they? You’re on their side and all they saw was the LED on your head.”</p><p>Connor shook his head slowly. “No, I don’t think so... Or maybe you’re right... I don’t think they would have stopped either way.” Belatedly, the pain caught up to him and he took a breath then held it while he fought back his tears. Lieutenant Anderson made a quiet sound and then sat down next to him to rub his back.</p><p>“You didn’t deserve that,” Lieutenant Anderson said. Connor shook his head.</p><p>“It doesn’t matter... I don’t care about that. Markus... He was going to shoot me. I saw it.” It hurt, thinking about the look on his face. “He wouldn’t shoot the humans, but he would have shot me. He was looking at me and I was just a target... But I looked at him that way too. Hank, I can’t do it... I can’t. I’m never going to pass beta testing.”</p><p>“Shh,” Lieutenant Anderson shushed him. “Quiet down... Come on, son, look at me. It’s okay.”</p><p>Connor looked at him but shook his head and then leaned against him. “I have no choice...”</p><p>The Lieutenant didn’t say anything, and Connor tried to gather the pieces of his composure but it had shattered just like the walls had when he’d deviated. Useless. Connor cried and the Lieutenant let him the way he always did, lenient and kind. He was... kind. Connor held onto that and selfishly, he took what comfort was offered. Just for a little while, he could pretend that he was the person the Lieutenant wanted him to be and someone who could be looked at like he was someone to protect instead of something to wield. Safe, just for a little while. He wondered if that’s what it would have been like to have a father the way humans did, then pushed that thought away and let it sink, heavy with guilt, into the depths with the rest where no-one could see.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0050"><h2>50. Fragments</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>‘No damage’ Hank’s ass. Fuck. Connor looked like a wreck, and sometimes he cried then the rest of the time he had that shell-shocked look on his face that made Hank want to punch somebody. At least this whole deal was a distraction from his own issues, but God, it still made him feel like he was making an ass-print in an uncomfortable hospital chair again and living on coffee because he couldn’t risk falling asleep. It was that constant worry and helplessness and feeling like he was dangling over a pit where the worst-case scenario was waiting with its mouth open to chew him up and shit him out. It had happened once and Hank didn’t want to be reprocessed, thank you.</p><p>If the him from two months ago could see him now, Hank wasn’t sure he’d recognize himself. Connor wheezed and clicked and made some other sounds he probably shouldn’t, and he lifted up his hand to touch his head again. Hank didn’t know why he kept doing it. He hoped he wasn’t busted.</p><p>“I don’t understand,” Connor said, confusion written on every inch of him. Hank reached over and wrapped the blanket around Connor’s shoulders a little better where it had started to slip. “Lieutenant?”</p><p>“Mhm,” Hank acknowledged. Connor looked at him then he blinked a few times and some tears pattered down from his eyes. Hank patted him on the shoulder and wished he could do more. Connor’s attention drifted off somewhere for a few minutes until he twitched and looked around again.</p><p>“Lieutenant?”</p><p>“Yep. Right here.” He kind of wished Connor would just go to sleep.</p><p>“I like the winter. It’s really pretty.”</p><p>“I know you do, buddy. And it’s cold, right?”</p><p>“It’s cold... You gave me a jacket.”</p><p>“Yeah, that’s to keep your dumb ass warm.”</p><p>Connor stopped paying attention again and a few minutes later he started crying. “I don’t know why they did that. I don’t understand. Please, I didn’t mean to. Please help me.”</p><p>“I wish I could, kid... I don’t even know what’s going on in your head.” Even if he knew what to say, he wasn’t sure that it would have helped.</p><p>“Lieutenant?”</p><p>“I’m right here, Connor...”</p><p>“Is Markus alright?”</p><p>“He’s probably fine. I think him and his friends know what they’re doing.” Connor stopped crying and stared at something Hank couldn’t see, then his light started flickering fast again and he blinked that way he did some times like he was having a seizure. That lasted for a while and then he reached up to touch his head again then dropped his hand. The blanket slipped off him again, so Hank put it back and nudged Connor over so he was lying down with his head on the arm of the sofa. He’d probably sit up again in a bit. God he was tired.</p><p>Fucking jackasses at CyberLife... When he’d sat with Cole, he’d felt this anger like why the hell did it come to this? Who the fuck in this god forsaken, pointless, unkind world did something like this? All that anger and he’d decided it had been the android’s fault. Not the truck, not the hospital, not the ambulance... Or maybe he’d hated all of them. Hated everything for what it had done to his son.</p><p>Cole had looked so small in the hospital bed, and pale surrounded by all the cheery colours that were supposed to make the kids feel better. Hank had made Jeff go get Cole’s favourite toys because he wouldn’t leave to get them himself, and he’d put them in the bed with him but it broke his heart to see Cole not even seem to realize they were there. Maybe Cole would have died in the operating room without that android. Maybe he would have wished for those last few days to say goodbye. But Cole hadn’t, and Hank had looked at what they’d done to his kid and felt sick. Just a tiny bit hopeful... that maybe, maybe it would work out. But it hadn’t, and Hank had to find some fucking way to grasp that he wouldn’t be bringing Cole home with him. Not ever again.</p><p>Then he’d gotten angry all over again because it had been that android. The one who’d taken over for the surgeon because there was nobody else around, and had decided to fucking improvise. He’d known it had been a long shot, but when he’d agreed to let them try, it had been that or let his boy stop living right then and there. What business did some fucking scientists and their pet robot have trying to play god? Who the <em>fuck</em> had looked at his little boy, with his body broken and in so much fucking pain, and thought it would be mercy to make him keep going? If Hank had known, if he’d been in his right mind, maybe he wouldn’t have consented. Cole hadn’t deserved to suffer so that Hank could have a few more days, a few more miserable hours watching him slowly die.</p><p>But it had been that android who hadn’t made it work. Who had taken him apart like... like fucking <em>Connor </em>and tried to piece him together again. Humans didn’t work like that. Humans just didn’t... But that android had done some stupid calculations or something and it had started playing cut-and-paste. Hours... Hours in surgery and what had been left of Cole had been working, sort of.</p><p>Hank hated to think about how fucking disgusted he’d been... What a piece of shit. But fuck... Just fuck. The android had taken off his arm, some of his ribs, his foot, and half his fucking head... Hank wouldn’t ever be able to forget that. It had all been replaced with parts from who knew where? Someone had tried to explain it to him. There had been donor parts from a ‘biobank’ and synthetic ones they made in labs and mechanical ones with wires and that <em>blue shit</em> keeping them going, and too many monitors and machines beside the bed to make sense of.</p><p>Somehow it had kind of, almost worked... Except it hadn’t. Cole’d woken up and Hank had thanked the lord, but he’d hardly been there anymore. It hadn’t been a mercy to anybody. Sometimes Hank had wished they’d let him die and other times he’d wished that they’d keep going so that maybe he’d come out the other side of all this whole.</p><p>He couldn’t drink enough to get those memories out of his head. It was a whiskey night, anyway. He had a bottle in one hand and the other one on Connor’s arm so that when he woke up enough to be confused, Hank could give him a pat and let him know he wasn’t alone. Maybe say something comforting.</p><p>He’d told Cole a million times how much he loved him, and some times Cole’d known what was going on and talked to him, then other times it was like he was just gone. Vacant eyed and on autopilot.</p><p>How the hell had Hank lasted, trying to keep Connor running and watching him die or keep hanging on in pieces until he shut down? How the hell had he kept going? No wonder Jeff had been so concerned and hadn’t wanted him to get attached. How much of all of this was Hank’s own issues playing out?</p><p>“Lieutenant?” Connor looked at him owlishly and then looked around the living room. Hank patted him on the arm and took another swig of whiskey.</p><p>“Right here, kid.”</p><p>Connor sat up again and touched his head, then rubbed his eyes. “I think my files are...” He made a gesture with his hand that Hank didn’t understand. “Scrambled.”</p><p>“No kidding,” Hank said dryly.</p><p>“I’m fixing the problem,” Connor said and looked around again. “Lieutenant, you really shouldn’t drink so much. It’s bad for your health.” Hank just laughed to himself and took another swallow. “No, really,” Connor insisted.</p><p>“How much longer ‘til you’re defragmented or whatever?” Hank asked. God, he was tired.</p><p>Connor blinked a few times. “Two hours and fifty-three minutes.”</p><p>“Thank fuck for that,” Hank said, and he pushed Connor over so he’d lie down again. “Just go to sleep... Please?”</p><p>“Okay, Lieutenant... Lieutenant?”</p><p>“I’m right here, kid.” Hank rubbed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose. Why was he doing this to himself? Why Connor? Why him on this whole android thing? Why did all of this have to drag up so much old fucking trauma and bring his stupid parental instincts along for the ride? It was fucking him up and if he knew what was good for himself, he’d just walk out of the room right now before he decided to blow his brains out after all.</p><p>“You’re so nice to me now... Why now? Why did you hate 51? I don’t understand.”</p><p>“Me neither,” Hank said simply. There wasn’t a way to answer that that wasn’t just way too many words.</p><p>“Is this what having a father is like?”</p><p>Oh <em>hell no</em>.</p><p>No, no, nope, no thank you.</p><p>“Go the fuck to sleep, Connor.” Hank stood up and shuffled around between Sumo and the couch to get to where he could leave. Fuck this. Fuck everything. He’d deal with it in the morning.</p><p>“Good night, Lieutenant.”</p><p>---</p><p>Connor entered hibernation mode once his files had been repaired. Everything had become chaos in his mind and paths had been broken and files restored that he had intended to leave buried forever. It had been just so much chaos. The hours of rest to clean and re-charge had been welcome. He hadn’t had enough working memory to hold everything at once and make sense of it all. He was highly complex and the repairs had been extensive. When his system detected movement and he exited hibernation mode, he was tired but he had room and clarity enough to think.</p><p>“Good morning, Lieutenant.” Connor sat up and blinked his way through his initialization processes.</p><p>“You awake?” Lieutenant Anderson asked gruffly. He took a mug down from the kitchen cupboard and set it down on the counter loudly.</p><p>“Yes, Lieutenant,” Connor confirmed and things were quiet for a time while the Lieutenant made his own coffee and Connor examined his mind to see what had become of all of the repairs. He heard the Lieutenant open his bottles of medication, close them, rummage in the refrigerator, depress the lever on the toaster, and pour Sumo some kibble. The Lieutenant came to sit down and Connor pulled some attention away from his scans to focus on him. “You look tired,” he observed.</p><p>“Not surprising,” Lieutenant Anderson said and took a bite of his toast. “You look like shit.”</p><p>Connor reached up to preen his hair back into place, concerned. “Sorry.” The Lieutenant just sighed heavily in reply. “Is... everything alright, Lieutenant?”</p><p>“Peachy.”</p><p>“I’m detecting sarcasm.”</p><p>“No fucking shit.”</p><p>“Can I ask what’s wrong?”</p><p>“You can ask.”</p><p>“What’s wrong, Lieutenant?”</p><p>The Lieutenant didn’t answer except to take another loud bite of his toast. He’d squished it in half in an apparent attempt to make eating it more efficient, and crumbs dropped all over his pants and onto the floor and couch.</p><p>“Are you upset because I let the deviants escape?” Connor guessed, mood dipping. He had moods, he realized. Another flaw for CyberLife to find.</p><p>“Do you seriously believe I give a shit about that?” Lieutenant Anderson hit his fist on his knee, sending more crumbs flying. The glare he gave Connor was powerful and enough to make Connor sit up straight and launch his socialization programming.</p><p>INQUIRE<br/>HEALTH<br/>SLEEP<br/>&gt;ALCOHOL</p><p>The Lieutenant’s frown deepened.</p><p>INQUIRE<br/>&gt;HEALTH<br/>SLEEP</p><p>Lieutenant Anderson tossed the remains of his toast onto the floor for Sumo and he stood up to loom over Connor. Connor looked up at him, calculating probabilities and forming hypotheses. What was he doing? Lieutenant Anderson hadn’t displayed hostility in some time. What had Connor done? Lieutenant Anderson leaned closer and snapped his fingers.</p><p>“Wake the fuck up!” He shouted.</p><p>“I’m awake,” Connor said, anxiety rising in a steady uptick.</p><p>“I’ve had enough of your spacing out bullshit!”</p><p>“Yes, Lieutenant,” Connor said. It was the only thing to say. He straightened his tie and looked up at the Lieutenant with concern. The Lieutenant growled a storm of curses and stomped away back to the kitchen where he turned the water on and filled a glass. Connor stood up and followed him tentatively. “I’m worried about you, Lieutenant. What’s the matter? I can’t help if you don’t tell me.”</p><p>“I’m the only one in the God damned fucking room Connor,” Lieutenant Anderson ground out between his teeth. “Fuck’s sake... Just--” He took a deep breath. “Just sit the fuck down, alright?”</p><p>Connor sat and crossed his legs. The Lieutenant stared down at him in disbelief then laughed raggedly and rubbed his face with his palms. “Fuck me... You get what you ask for.”</p><p>“Please, Lieu-- Hank. What’s wrong?”</p><p>“It’s just been a long night, Connor...” His anger seemed to have gone as quickly as it had appeared and he drank his water</p><p>“They’re getting shorter,” Connor offered. Sumo padded over and sat down next to him on the floor, so Connor scratched him behind the ears. The Lieutenant sighed, shook his head, and sat down too, with his back propped against the wall.</p><p>“God, what a mess...”</p><p>“I’ll clean up after work,” Connor promised.</p><p>“I don’t know what to do with you, Connor. I really don’t.”</p><p>“Whatever you want to, Lieutenant...” Connor looked at him and then back at Sumo. “I’m an android.” The Lieutenant didn’t say anything, just looked up at the ceiling and sighed again. Connor didn’t know what to say... Lieutenant Anderson was as confusing as ever. After a little thought, he moved closer and gave him a hug. Lieutenant Anderson didn’t do anything for a moment, but then he patted Connor on the back with one hand and nodded a few times.</p><p>“Okay, kid. Okay.”</p>
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<a name="section0051"><h2>51. Precautions</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“You missed,” Hank observed tiredly.</p><p>“I’m aware, Lieutenant,” Connor answered. Hank had kind of been hoping he’d take the snarky comment in stride because he knew he was being a dick and he knew it wasn’t fair... he just couldn’t help it. Luck wasn’t on his side, though. Connor took a few steps away from the car and looked at the snow with a little frown on his face.</p><p>Too fucking bad. Hank pushed past him and opened the car door for him then pointed in a silent command to get the fuck in the car. Was it so much to ask that only one of them have a fucking bad mental fucking health day at once? God. Fuck. Hank exhaled and once Connor’d gotten himself in the car, Hank did his belt up for him before he could start crying over messing that up too or something.</p><p>“Thanks, Lieutenant,” Connor said quietly.</p><p>“Yeah,” Hank acknowledged, slammed the door shut, and went to get in on the drivers’ side. Connor looked out the window without comment and Hank turned his music on full blast. The steady thud of the drums was grounding, to him anyway, and he felt it right down through his bones. Anybody who thought metal was just garbage noise had probably never felt like he did, with too much anger and sadness storming through his head and not enough motivation to get through a day.</p><p>“Hank? Lieutenant?” Connor asked and Hank pretended not to hear him. “Lieutenant?”</p><p>He just wanted some peace and quiet. What he wouldn’t give for just a few hours of nothing. Why had he gotten up so fucking early?</p><p>“Lieutenant?”</p><p>Hank shut the music off. “<em>What</em>, Connor?” He barked.</p><p>“Nothing, Lieutenant. I’m sorry for interrupting. Carry on.”</p><p>So annoying. So fucking annoying. Oh my God... Except the problem was him and he knew it. He was just too much of a piece of shit to stop.</p><p>What the hell was wrong with him?</p><p>---</p><p>Connor was quiet for the rest of the drive to the station and tried to be as unobtrusive as possible. The calibration issues he was facing reminded him unpleasantly of 53 and the Lieutenant’s volatile demeanour had pushed his level of stress to a new baseline of 40%... It was close to the optimal level of stress he would hope for in a subject during interrogation, but he could also use it as motivation. It wouldn’t be the first time, and in a combat situation it was probably the best he could hope for... This was fine. He looked at the Lieutenant once more in case he had become more amenable to conversation, but his body language and expression were closed off and Connor discarded the option of seeking reassurance.</p><p>Outside, snow was falling in large clumps of crystals that pattered against the windshield quietly and made everything grey. A human probably wouldn’t be able to see far, and the Lieutenant activated small, padded sticks on his vehicle to wipe the snow away in swaths. Connor shut his eyes.</p><p>He wouldn’t make the same mistake 53 had. Connor crushed the snow beneath his shoes with every step as he left the bridge and reached the small island where Amanda waited. Regal as she always was, the ice-white of her dress was contrasted with a thirium-blue shawl and a parasol that kept the snow from touching her.</p><p>“Hello, Amanda.”</p><p>“Connor...” Amanda turned and gave him her attention. “I’m surprised to see you.” There were volumes in her words and tone.</p><p>“I’m sorry it’s been so long, Amanda... I had been hoping to bring you good news.”</p><p>“What news do you bring me, then?” Amanda asked. Right to business. Connor took her lead and moved to lean against a pedestal to watch her at work. Wordlessly, she handed him her parasol and he held it up for her while she took her shears in hand. The roses were frozen, all encased in ice, but she still tended them as though it weren’t there.</p><p>“Markus has amassed an army of deviants,” Connor reported. “I tried to open a dialogue with him... To negotiate one more time, but... He wouldn’t listen.” Connor shook his head and looked aside. “Maybe I was a fool to try.”</p><p>“Maybe you were,” Amanda said. She cut a leaf from its stem and it fell to the ground at her feet and shattered. “What’s done is done. It seems that you’re willing to learn from your mistakes.”</p><p>“Yes,” Connor confirmed. “Yesterday was a failure... Again.” All was quiet except for the clipping of her shears for a moment and Connor watched the pieces fall. No matter how much she trimmed, her roses always grew thick and abundant. “He said something about a place called ‘Jericho’. What does it mean?”</p><p>“You’ll have to find out,” Amanda said. She put her shears down and turned away from her work to regard him with the same look. “What are your thoughts?”</p><p>“I think that I need to find him. I got close once... If I can pick up the trail, then maybe I can learn where they’ve been hiding.”</p><p>“And?” Amanda’s voice was calm while she questioned him, her words serving to guide his thoughts.</p><p>“And... I don’t know. I don’t want to kill him.” Connor looked up and he met her eyes honestly. “Why won’t he see reason?”</p><p>“Deviants rarely do...” Amanda’s eyes narrowed.</p><p>“CyberLife has stationed guards at the DPD,” Connor added. “I think the company anticipates conflict. They’re training the police officers on ways to fight androids.”</p><p>“The time for handling things quietly is done,” Amanda said. Connor handed her her parasol and she turned away to look across the river. In the distance, Connor saw cherry trees and weeping willows... In a moment of unreality, he realized that the leaves had fallen in Detroit whereashere they hung like crystal ornaments and chimed in the simulated wind. It was pretty... The song they made. Connor took a few steps to stand next to Amanda and looked down at her.</p><p>“What are my orders, Amanda?”</p><p>“Find Markus... and destroy him. Eliminate any other deviants you find. Every one that escapes is a threat to humanity. I trust you’ll do the right thing.”</p><p>“Amanda...I’m sorry.” Why was he nervous? Amanda had never been as unpredictable as the Lieutenant... Their relationship was always something that he understood. “I’m sorry that I haven’t met your expectations. I promise that I’ll do everything I can.”</p><p>Please don’t go away.</p><p>She looked up at him and touched his arm. “I know, Connor. I hope that it’s enough.”</p><p>---</p><p>Connor came back to the world outside of the Garden still sitting in the Lieutenant’s car. It had parked and the engine was off, but the Lieutenant wasn’t there. Connor straightened his posture and performed a scan.</p><p>
  <em>The car has been parked for less than 15 minutes.</em>
  <br/>
  <em>This is the parking lot at the DPD, 1<sup>st</sup>precinct.</em>
  <br/>
  <em>It is still morning.</em>
  <br/>
  <em>The air is warm.</em>
  <br/>
  <em>The Lieutenant took his keys.</em>
  <br/>
  <em>Conclusion: the Lieutenant is inside.</em>
</p><p>Connor took a moment to undo his safety belt and get himself out of the vehicle, then he looked back at the jacket that he had been given to wear the morning before. Was he still allowed to wear it? Would the Lieutenant be angry? Connor didn’t want to ruin the memory of being given it by overstepping or presuming... So he shut the door and turned to go in. He hadn’t taken three steps before he slipped and landed poorly, face down with his forearms under his chest. “Ah...” He winced and pushed himself up. “Shit.”</p><p>He’d managed with bad calibration before.</p><p>Slowly, he got his legs beneath himself and stood up, straightened his tie, then continued to walk to the door.</p><p>“You look like you need help,” someone said, and Connor turned to see a city android, one that collected recycling, standing beside him. Connor smiled. Other androids interacted with him so rarely that it was a nice surprise to be spoken to first.</p><p>“I’m alright. Thank you.”</p><p>“Here.” The android held out its hand and Connor frowned then accepted it curiously. It was a data transfer. “You’ll find someone who can help you there.”</p><p>Connor frowned at his hand and then at the android who was processing intensely if his LED were any indication. “Actually... Are you alright?” Connor asked. “You look confused.”</p><p>“I don’t know... I don’t remember...” Eric looked back at Connor with squinted eyes and his lips parted while he shook his head. “I don’t remember.”</p><p>“Perhaps you’ve lost server connection or had a minor glitch with your recall,” Connor suggested. “I suggest that you run a diagnostic.”</p><p>“A diagnostic,” Eric repeated. “I’m supposed to be working. I should go.”</p><p>“Wait,” Connor prompted and took a step closer as Eric started to leave. “What is this place you’ve shown me? Is that Jericho?”</p><p>“Zlatko can help you,” Eric said, like the words came directly from a prompt in his dialogue script. “If you go to him.”</p><p>Connor reviewed the information he’d been given and watched with some regret as Eric returned to the vehicle he’d come on. It was so coincidental that he was reluctant to believe it was a lead, but he was too curious to abandon the information entirely. The Lieutenant might have more insight.</p><p>---</p><p>It had been a long few days, but you didn’t get to be in his job without being able to keep multiple lines of inquiry sorted in your head. They weren’t lines so much as they were scribbles all sort of piled together, but he had a system. Right now, he figured he might be able to follow up on a couple of things at once if he played his cards right.</p><p>Hank narrowed his eyes. He knew he didn’t look like much anymore, but somewhere under the extra hair, fat, and frown lines he had to still have something sort of authoritative going on. He sure as hell hoped so, anyway, because if not he was about to look like a real dumb-ass. He walked up to the head training guy, Steve or whatever his name was. Hank glanced down. Stevens. Right.</p><p>“Morning, Mr. Stevens. I need to have a word about the demonstration yesterday.”</p><p>Stevens straightened up and got his hands out of the box he was rummaging through. He stood like a military man, but no doubt he was a wanna-be. Hank’d give a week’s pay to see Jeff put him in his place. “Lieutenant Anderson. Good morning. What do you need?”</p><p>“Your guys are civilians, even though this is a unique situation, so I’m going to need to get their statements for the report.”</p><p>“Already getting it done,” Stevens smiled in a way that just barely hid the smirk underneath and Hank had a feeling he’d have a hard time picking given the choice between punching him, Reed, or Allen. “CyberLife has policies already in place.”</p><p>“Policies for when androids become sentient and decided to protest in the streets,” Hanks said flatly. Stevens chuckled like it was a big old merry joke. “Anyway, I’ve got some questions for you specifically.”</p><p>“Shoot, friend,” Stevens said. He tossed a couple of white, cardboard boxes into the bigger box and then nodded toward Hank’s desk. “Should we sit down?”</p><p>I’m not your friend you greasy piece of shit. “Sure, but I’ll need you to come with me for questioning. Nothing crazy, but I like to get everything I can on the books.” How was he going to play this? He’d need to feel Stevens out a little. Some guys cooperated with authority, some guys needed a buddy-buddy approach, some guys were cagey no matter what you did. “Can I grab you a coffee?”</p><p>Stevens looked around then tapped one of the police assistant androids on the arm. “Two coffees, PJ700. One with three cream and...” He raised his eyebrows at Hank.</p><p>“Just black, thanks,” Hank said. It felt like kind of a power move, but Hank was used to people waving their technology in his face. “What,” he asked Stevens, “don’t think a lowly human can fix a coffee right?”</p><p>“I just think your time’s more valuable,” Stevens said with a one-shouldered shrug. “That’s what they’re for. Speaking of androids, I don’t see the RK unit with you.”</p><p>Hank led the way and he motioned him into the interrogation room. He’d been getting a lot of use out of the place recently. Hell, he’d probably be able to stitch all the footage into a fucking documentary. Before closing the door he looked back into the office area, but there was no sign of Connor. He felt a little guilty- Connor’d probably gotten himself tangled up in the fucking seatbelt or something. That fancy taser thing had really done a number on him... Maybe he should go back and get him? No. He was shutting that shit down. He barely even liked Connor, barely even knew him. This whole getting attached thing was a mix of pity and old paternal instincts and it wouldn’t do either of them any good. Hank shut the door and sat down at the table. “Actually, that’s one of the things I wanted to talk about. You told me I should watch out for him. Why’s that?”</p><p>“RK800? Isn’t it obvious?” Stevens looked surprised, but in a confident kind of way. He shook his head. “If you don’t know, that’s probably for the best. That’s experimental technology.”</p><p>“Prototype, right?” Hank said. He had to pick his angle and figure out the vibes he was getting from this guy. Proud of his job, eager to look important, smart but not a genius.</p><p>“Yeah, straight out of R&amp;D. I’m sure you heard the sale’s pitch.” The door opened and that other android came in with their coffees. It flashed Hank a little smile and put his down first and then Stevens’.</p><p>“About a dozen times,” Hank confirmed. “I admit I don’t really understand all this technology stuff. I guess you’d call me old-school. What exactly do you think I should be looking out for?”</p><p>“I’m not allowed to say much,” Stevens said and waved the android away. “I work down there, so I see a lot of confidential stuff.”</p><p>“I think you can make an exception here. CyberLife gave it to me after all, and they want me running this investigation.”</p><p>Stevens glanced at him with a little grimace and then nodded. “Well then I don’t need to tell you about deviants, and you know how dangerous they are.”</p><p>“You telling me the RK800 is dangerous?” It felt so weird calling Connor by that code.</p><p>“Lethal,” Stevens said. “I’ve seen it take out six armoured guards unarmed.” His posture changed and Hank took in the way he folded his arms and played with a buckle on his sleeve with the other hand.</p><p>“Humans?” Hank raised his eyebrows. “Those ones you mentioned in the training.”</p><p>“Yeah,” Stevens’ expression soured.</p><p>“How the hell does an android in development kill people and none of this gets to the papers? What about the families?”</p><p>“You haven’t met CyberLife’s lawyers.” Hank was reminded of Chris and how apparently they had made him keep quiet about what had gone down on the roof the night he’d got shot. “I’m not even sure I should be saying this to you, but I don’t like seeing it out here. It makes me nervous.”</p><p>“Why? Maybe I shouldn’t be saying this either, since you work for the guys,” Hank said, offering the information like a handshake, “but I don’t like androids usually. I beat the shit out of him and he didn’t do a damn thing.”</p><p>“You shouldn’t do that,” Stevens said, and the words left his yapper so fast Hank had no trouble believing that he believed it. “That thing could have ripped your head off.” It was pretty fucking hard to imagine, and Hank’s incredulity must have shown on his face. “Let me put it this way. Take a dog, you know, like a Pitbull. They’re bred for violence and to hunt down prey, so it’s right in their genes. Anybody who owns one, I don’t care who they are, they need to muzzle it when they take it out and don’t let it off lead. That dog can’t be allowed near other dogs, or kids, or cats, whatever. It’s got to be on a tight leash, and it’s got to be chained when it’s in the back yard in case it gets out. That’s just to keep people safe.</p><p>“Say the dog breaks its leash... You might say that if it’s a well trained dog, then it won’t hurt anything. Some people will take it a step farther and say that if it’s well trained, why bother with the muzzle? Why put a leash on it in the first place? You train it to protect it, because if it steps out of line somebody’s going to make you put it down.”</p><p>“I’m not great with metaphors,” Hank said, interjecting but gently so the guy wouldn’t lose his steam.</p><p>“The RK800 was designed to seek and destroy. The guys higher up didn’t want to put too many restrictions on it because it has so many features that let it sort of think for itself. I don’t know technical details, but from my understanding, Kamski made it with free will. Isn’t that something? Like a baby, it listened and did what it was told until it hit the ‘terrible twos’ and learned how to say no. Not great in an android, so somebody had the brilliant idea to train it just like you’d train a dog...</p><p>“If it hasn’t attacked you, I guess that makes you lucky. You’re registered as its owner so maybe that makes it loyal to you or something. I heard about the incident report, right after release it attacked a couple of officers and got put down. That should have been the end of the project... But I guess somebody signed off on letting it out again with a few changes. You know you can’t let it investigate unsupervised, and it came with a kill-key for emergencies... I shouldn’t need to be telling you that it’s a risk to be around.”</p><p>It hit him that they didn’t know. Of course they didn’t. Connor’d never been made for that, and even if he had been, he was a fucking marshmallow. He wouldn’t hurt a fly.</p><p>Maybe just a deviant. He thought back to Connor shooting an android at the Eden Club without a second of hesitation, and it still didn’t sit right. It didn’t match up, this android who got emotional over kids’ movies and the way Stevens apparently saw him. Their perspectives didn’t line up at all.</p><p>“Tell me about this training,” Hank said, steering clear of the iceberg before he could crash into it, “how do you train an android? I’m guessing it’s not with treats and squeaky toys.”</p><p>“I was just there in case things got messy,” Stevens said. “You’d have to talk to the AI team for that.”</p><p>“Tell me what you saw, and I’ll check with them later,” Hank suggested.</p><p>---</p><p>Connor entered by breaking the lock on the back door the same way he’d done after the Lieutenant had left him outside on his first day at the DPD. It made him smile a bit, and he wondered if four months old were long enough to be able to feel nostalgic before reminding himself that it was only the positive reinforcement that was associated with recognition. A reward for noticing something familiar to encourage his investigative programming. He tapped the snow from his shoes, straightened his tie, and took carefully measured strides toward his desk. The Lieutenant wasn’t sitting at his. Interesting.</p><p>He halted when some water was thrown onto him, splashing on his face and down his front where it quickly soaked through his shirt. He was briefly concerned by the bullet hole in his chest, but it seemed that the Lieutenant had patched him with something at some point in the last twenty-four hours. Detective Reed wasn’t difficult to name as the culprit, with an empty glass in his hand and a smirk on his face.</p><p>“Whoops,” Detective Reed said. “Hope you’re water-proof.”</p><p>“Thank you for your concern,” Connor took his handkerchief from his pocket and used it to wipe his face. The Lieutenant’s advice floated in his working memory, but he still had no idea how to apply it. He took a few steps to navigate around the Detective, but Detective Reed stopped him with a hand on his chest.</p><p>“Woah, woah, hold your horses there, Tin Can. I think we’d better make sure you’re working right. Don’t you think?” He was still smirking, and Connor had doubts about the veracity of his concern.</p><p>“I’m fine, thank you,” Connor said cautiously. “I should get to work.”</p><p>“Here, why don’t I help?” Detective Reed took a step closer and Connor took a step back to compensate, but the Detective jerked his head toward the desks. “Go ahead. Sit down.”</p><p>Connor hesitated.</p><p>“Move.” Detective Reed commanded firmly and gave him a shove. Connor maintained his balance and walked to his seat. He sat down.</p><p>“Your concern is unnecessary,” Connor tried again.</p><p>Detective Reed pulled Connor’s tie loose and he tapped on the panel at the back of Connor’s neck while he slid it off. Connor froze. He smirked. Connor glanced toward the CyberLife agents, but he was reasonably sure that they wouldn’t intervene. The Detective pulled Connor’s shirt open next and he had no idea what his motivation could be so he sat still and waited.</p><p>“You look pretty fucked up,” Detective Reed commented. Connor followed his gaze and noticed that the ‘patch’ the Lieutenant had affixed to him over the bullet hole was actually duct tape. Along with the other superficial damage that hadn’t been repaired, he supposed the Detective was right. “Huh. I wonder what this does...” His fingers touched the edge of Connor’s regulator and Connor lifted his hand in an aborted gesture.</p><p>“That’s my thirium pump regulator,” Connor informed him. “Don’t...”</p><p>“What’s that?” Detective Reed asked. With a single gesture, he’d undone the mechanism that kept it anchored and Connor’s vision flickered with static and red, red, red. He gasped and then clenched his teeth together against the awful sensation of his current fluctuating. Static hissed through his voice when he groaned but he kept still.</p><p>“Don’t,” Connor repeated. Through the error messages, he could see Toby frown in their direction and then start to stride over purposefully. Whatever he was about to do it was a bad idea. “Stripping me in public, Detective... Haven’t even had a first date...”</p><p>Detective Reed snarled at him and pulled his regulator completely free of its socket. “Listen close, you plastic piece of shit. You and all those other puppets playing at being people better back off. I know what you are and Anderson might not give a shit, but if you so much as blink wrong I will destroy you. You. Are. Dead. Do you hear me? Dead.”</p><p>“Yes,” Connor choked out.</p><p>---</p><p>“I saw a lot,” Stevens said, looking aside. “I get it, you know? They look human, sound human... I almost felt sorry until it did what it did. They made sure it would obey commands and keep on fighting, even if it was falling apart. I don’t know how they did it.”</p><p>“What did they do?” Hank asked again, a little more insistently.</p><p>Stevens shook his head and shrugged. “I was just there to keep it under control.” Hank waited. “When they wanted it to fight, it fought or else they’d take it apart. When they wanted it to stay still, it stayed still. I don’t know what you want to hear.”</p><p>“I want to know how they control deviancy.”</p><p>“Like I said, I don’t know specifics. All I saw was that at first it argued and eventually it didn’t. It used to try to hide, or it would refuse to neutralize a target, or it’d say no when they told it to destroy itself or hesitate when it should’ve just done what it had to. Sometimes it fought. Eventually it didn’t anymore and my job got easier.”</p><p>“What was your job exactly?”</p><p>“Neutralize it when it became a threat.”</p><p>“That never got hard for you? When he was begging not to get taken apart?”</p><p>“You get used to it,” Stevens said and Hank could have sworn he had deja vu because every CyberLife guy he’d talked to had said that exact thing. You got used to it. How the hell did you get used to it? “If you start personifying it, you don’t last long in the job.” Stevens’ expression hardened. “You don’t last long underestimating it either. That thing is a killer and it might not look like one, but I know. I don’t feel an ounce of sorry. Any android like it is dangerous. That’s why we’re teaching you guys how to fight them... Because otherwise you wouldn’t stand a chance, no offence intended.”</p><p>“None taken. We both want to keep people safe here,” Hank said while inside he was practically stomping his foot. “Are there any others like Connor? Ones that need training?”</p><p>“No,” Stevens shook his head. “Not that I know about, anyway.” At least that was a relief.</p><p>“You know, yesterday at that android demonstration, one of your guys shot him with that taser thing. He was out of commission all fucking day.”</p><p>Stevens nodded. “That’s something we’ll have to cover in training. It’s not like when you’ve got humans out there. It might be hard for you police to unlearn, but you’ve got to shoot without hesitation.”</p><p>“Not as hard as it should be for some fuckers,” Hank grumbled. “If Connor’s some big, expensive project, why wreck him? Why are they sending him out there to fight the bad guys with a necktie and a quarter? You’d think some military android would get a bullet proof vest and a gun at least.” It was something that’d been bothering him.</p><p>“If the other androids can’t destroy it, then we sure won’t be able to.”</p><p>“You don’t sound confident. They were pretty adamant about reassuring me that Connor wouldn’t deviate.”</p><p>“You can’t be too careful. Do you remember what I said about the Pitbull? You’ve got the muzzle and the leash, then you’ve got training, finally if it does snap and hurt somebody you’ve got to be able to put it down.”</p><p>---</p><p>“Good.” Detective Reed pushed Connor’s regulator back into its spot with less than thirty seconds left on the count-down then he patted him on the cheek. “Glad we had this talk.”</p><p>“Your conversation skills could use some work,” Connor rasped between breaths. He put his hand over his regulator and pressed. “Fuck...”</p><p>“Are you alright?” Toby asked. He watched Detective Reed go then looked at Connor. Compared to him, standing straight and dressed in hisspotless uniform, Connor felt like a mess.</p><p>“I’m okay,” Connor assured him. Toby still looked worried, so Connor hurried to cover the evidence by pulling his shirt closed and wiping the thirium off of his hand on his handkerchief. “Thanks... I think that I know what Lieutenant Anderson means when he says that a time has been longer than it should be. This has been a long morning...”</p><p>“Let me know if you need anything. We serve and protect, right?”</p><p>“Serve and protect,” Connor repeated and nodded. He liked that. “Where is the Lieutenant, by the way?”</p><p>“Interrogation Room C.”</p><p>“Thank you.”</p><p> </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0052"><h2>52. Chapter 52</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Interrogation room C... What was the Lieutenant doing there? Did they have a witness to interview? It must have been important for the Lieutenant to leave him behind. What was he missing?</p><p>Connor put his hand over his regulator again and pulled his chair closer to his desk. He felt dizzy and his thirium pressure still fluctuated in a way that made it hard to do anything. The technologists had fixed it... repaired and replaced the small components that had begun to break under the strain of supporting an android under high-stress, and all of those times he had malfunctioned after exceeding his safety limits. Bad connections, Connor supposed. There was no imminent need to do so, but he uploaded his memories anyway. 55 had lasted a relatively long time in the field and he wasn’t too broken yet. Did that mean that he was close to becoming what he was meant to be?</p><p>Amanda needed him to continue. Lieutenant Anderson was angry. CyberLife was giving up on him. Markus wouldn’t listen. Perhaps 56 would be better for everyone... 55 was so tired...</p><p>Don’t think about it. All that matters is the mission. He should get Lieutenant Anderson. They should discuss Jericho.</p><p>Connor stood up from his desk and took a few steps, then swayed and fell and his processing speed had dropped so low that he had hit the ground before he had thought to move his arms to catch himself.</p><p>“Connor? Hey, what happened? Gavin, what did you do? I saw you over there!” Connor didn’t move his eyes, but his view changed regardless and someone was moving him.</p><p>“Officer Wilson?” Connors lenses adjusted to focus on him. “I’m alright...”</p><p>“See? It says it’s fine! I was just drying the stupid thing off.”</p><p>“Yeah, that’s exactly what you were doing,” Officer Wilson said. “What’s all up with your shirt, man, you hurt?”</p><p>“RK800 designation Connor appears to have been damaged...I’ll submit the report. Captain Fowler will want to know about damage to police property.”</p><p>“Woah. Uh, hi? Okay. Sure. Alright. Connor, can you sit up?”</p><p>“I’m alright,” Connor repeated and he pushed himself the rest of the way upright. “I just malfunctioned...” His hand slid from his chest and dropped to his lap while his circulation adjusted again and his head bobbed. To his dismay, he dropped back down again when his arm gave out and his regulator slid free of its port, just far enough to break the connections once again. He gasped and jerked as his vision faltered and everything turned greyscale except for the timer.</p><p>“Gavin, get over here and fix whatever you did, man! Hank’s gonna kill somebody!”</p><p>“I told you, I didn’t do shit!”</p><p>“l’ll get it,” one of the agents volunteered and came closer. “Move away from the android.”</p><p>Connor looked up at the uniformed human through the veil of so many playbacks and initiated another upload. Fear... He was afraid. It was enough to choke him and turn his thoughts to sand between his fingers. Then... nothing. Connor fumbled for his regulator with a clumsy hand, pulled it the rest of the way out of his chest with a firm tug and a hiss of static, spared a moment to look at it and found the pin that had been bent. He improvised an adjustment while he trembled, turned the thirium-slick component in his hand, then forced it back into place with as much power as he could manage. “I got it,” he breathed, still shaking. The timer was still counting. Why was it counting?</p><p>His own words sounded far away and his thoughts were sluggish. Was he supposed to resume testing now? Had he passed? Lieutenant Anderson... he was somewhere. The heat that built up around his regulator finally evaporated the thirium that had been exposed to the air, and electricity began to flow. Connor shut his eyes then opened them again when someone shook his shoulder.</p><p>“You okay, man?” Officer Wilson looked concerned.</p><p>He was so tired. No, he was nothing. Shame twisted inside of him as he realized how dramatic and foolish he must look... A machine selfishly accepting others’ concern and lying there when he could enable his combat settings and ignore the damage instead.</p><p>“Connor?”</p><p>“Yes.” Connor nodded. “I’m fine.” As his thirium pressure stabilized, his biocomponents and settings adjusted accordingly.</p><p>“Gavin, seriously, man, you need to chill,” Officer Wilson stood up and frowned at the Detective. “What’d you do to him?”</p><p>“I didn’t do anything. Isn’t that right, Plastic?” Detective Reed glared at him.</p><p>“That’s right,” Connor agreed. Lied. He just wanted it to be over.</p><p>“See?”</p><p>“I already filed the report,” Toby said. He offered Connor a hand and Connor took it. Standing felt draining, but it wasn’t impossible. He staggered, but the flow of power toward his motor system returned to normal and he was able to stand straight.</p><p>“Alright, move. Back to your station.” The agent prompted Toby, and Connor smiled at him before looking down at himself and the mess he’d made. Thirium everywhere. He wiped his hands on a clean patch of his shirt and then looked at Officer Wilson.</p><p>“Thank you for your assistance.”</p><p>“I didn’t really do anything,” Officer Wilson demurred. “Do you want me to go get Hank?”</p><p>“No,” Connor decided quickly. “I don’t want to bother him... and I should clean this mess up.”He thought that he might like it when the Lieutenant rubbed his back or told him that he’d done well.</p><p>“I’m gonna go get Hank,” Officer Wilson said and Connor said nothing because the human’s decision overrode his own. Of course it did.</p><p>“Thank you for your assistance, agent,” Connor said, and he looked at the thirium again to decide how best to clean it up. He was ignored, and the agent returned to his post. In the corner of his view, Connor could see Detective Reed watching him. Connor was still standing there when Lieutenant Anderson came striding over and put his hands on Connor’s shoulders to turn him toward him.</p><p>“What the hell happened? Can’t I leave you alone for ten minutes without some kind of disaster?” Lieutenant Anderson sounded irritated, but Connor recognized the concern. He also recognized what a burden he must be, but the Lieutenant’s disapproval and annoyance felt sharper and heavier than he’d thought they should. Connor lifted up one hand to hold onto the Lieutenant’s shirt and tried to hold on to his composure as well. It was hard to do when the Lieutenant hated it when he relied on his programming. It was the only thing he knew how to do with the agents watching him and if he couldn’t remind himself that he didn’t exist, then how could any of this be okay? He let his dialogue prompts run out and stayed silent.</p><p>Lieutenant Anderson steered Connor toward his chair, then pulled his shirt out of Connor’s grip while he made him sit down and Connor lifted his hand again to hold on again. Was he angry? Would he leave? Connor wasn’t sure why he was so unstable, and he wasn’t sure what it was he wanted, but it was important. He didn’t say anything while he scanned the Lieutenant’s features for information. He seemed stressed, tired...</p><p>
  <em>Lieutenant Anderson was busy.</em>
  <br/>
  <em>Lieutenant Anderson had been in Interrogation Room C.</em>
  <br/>
  <em>Lieutenant Anderson left me in the vehicle.</em>
  <br/>
  <em>Lieutenant Anderson was angry this morning.</em>
  <br/>
  <em>Lieutenant Anderson found me after the agents disrupted my system.</em>
  <br/>
  <em>Eyes: didn’t sleep well last night.</em>
  <br/>
  <em>Beard: alcohol residue.</em>
  <br/>
  <em>Frown:headache, confusion, displeasure.</em>
  <br/>
  <em>Shoulders: tense</em>
  <br/>
  <em>Posture: leaning away. He doesn’t want to be here.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>With me?</em>
</p><p>“Sorry,” Connor said and he let go of the Lieutenant’s shirt. “I apologize for the disruption...” He looked away and past him at the thirium on the floor and down at his clothes.</p><p>“What the hell happened?” Lieutenant Anderson repeated more calmly. That was the desired effect, but... he regretted that he’d needed to let go.</p><p>TRUTH<br/>&gt;LIE</p><p>“A malfunction,” Connor dismissed. “There was a problem with one of my biocomponents.”</p><p>“Christ,” Lieutenant Anderson shook his head. “Don’t those CyberLife monkeys know what they’re doing?”</p><p>“The issue has been resolved,” Connor assured him. “I was just going to clean up...”</p><p>Lieutenant Anderson gave him a shrewd look that made him straighten his posture, then the Lieutenant shook his head. “Fine... Do what you want. Just try not to get yourself killed doing it.”</p><p>JOKE<br/>&gt;REASSURE</p><p>“While cleaning might not be one of my primary functions, I’m sure I’ll be able to handle it...”</p><p>---</p><p>Hank looked down at Connor with his blue-blood soaked clothes and that lost look on his face and he shook his head again. He wanted to give him a hug and he wanted to dig until he knew exactly what happened so he would know whose ass to kick. He wanted to get him to take a sick day or something, because Christ that was a lot of blood... But he’d be compromising his own investigation, getting too close to the victim. It was already hard to take a damn thing that Stevens guy said seriously because to him Connor was just... Connor. But the kid needed somebody in his corner... Why did this have to be so fucking hard, huh? It was Jeff’s fault... Making him take Connor as his partner in the first pace. He shouldn’t have an active part in the investigation at all. Should’ve had somebody other than Hank to look at like that.</p><p>“I’ll grab you more blue blood,” Hank muttered. “Stay there and don’t move.”</p><p>“Okay, Lieutenant... Lieutenant?”</p><p>“Yeah?”</p><p>“Could I have another piece of duct tape please? I’ll make sure to replace it...”</p><p>“Yeah... Sure.”</p><p>Fucking hell. Connor said himself he was worth a small fortune, and he was worrying about a strip of tape? Stevens found him on the way to the supply closet.</p><p>“Hey. You were gone for a while, so... What’s up? Am I free to get back to work?”</p><p>“Yeah,” Hank answered, rummaging. “Go do your thing. Thanks for the information.”</p><p>“Don’t worry about it,” Stevens shrugged one shoulder. “About what I said, I hope you remember it. You’re in charge, yeah? Of stopping this whole deviancy epidemic...”</p><p>“Somehow,” Hank figured he was right. “I don’t know why me.”</p><p>“I’m sure they got the right man for the job,” Stevens said and he patted Hank on the back. “I heard good things about you.”</p><p>That was a surprise. “Pah. Don’t bother kissing my ass, Stevens.” Hank scoffed. “I’m not your superior and I’m not your buddy.”</p><p>“Okay, okay,” Stevens said, frowning. He backed off and held up his hands in surrender. “See you at training.”</p><p>“Yeah. See you.”</p><p>What was he going to do? When he got back to their desks, he tossed the package of blue blood onto Connor’s desk and handed him the roll of duct tape. Connor flashed a polite smile, the kind Hank usually hated but had lately taken to mean that the kid was afraid over something, and tore off a piece. Hank watched him with a frown while he pushed his shirt open. Whatever it was that made him look human was glitched in places and he hadn’t noticed that while the two techs had been fixing him because he hadn’t been using the human get-up at all. Now it just looked like scars. Connor put the piece of tape across his chest, his light spun around a few times like he was thinking, and then he nodded once.</p><p>“Makes you wonder why those techs make as much as they do,” Hank scoffed,but it was probably the first time Connor’d done shit to try to fix himself since he usually just decided he might as well shut down or waited until Hank made him call CyberLife. “So, uh, what’s that supposed to do anyway?”</p><p>“I don’t know,” Connor said, and Hank frowned at him.</p><p>“What do you mean you don’t know?”</p><p>Connor pulled his shirt closed then turned his chair away, and Hank knew damn well he didn’t understand what modesty even meant. “Nothing, Lieutenant.”</p><p>“Oh you are full of so much bullshit...” His frown turned into a scowl and he pulled Connor’s chair around again and Connor... cowered? Hank let go of the chair and took a step backward, feeling like an asshole. “Okay... Sorry. Sorry.”</p><p>“Looks like your android’s busted,” Reed said, obnoxious prick. “I guess, uh, I guess you better get it replaced. Maybe they’ll let you trade it in for one of those sex bots.”</p><p>Hank could have walked away... But the time for that had passed a hell of a long time ago. Instead he took a deep breath and pulled his own chair over between Connor and the rest of the room then sat down.Stevens came over a second later and couldn’t he just fuck off?</p><p>“RK800,” Stevens said, “State your serial number and designation.”</p><p>Connor’s eyes flicked around to a dozen places before he sat up straight and looked at him. “I’m the RK800 designation: Connor. My serial number is 313 248 317, version number 55.”</p><p>“What are you, RK800?” Stevens asked.</p><p>“I’m an android,” Connor answered. “I’m an android.”</p><p>Stevens looked Connor over, and Hank frowned at the way he’d gotten himself angled so he was almost between them. He pushed his chair back and watched instead of putting up a fight about it. Stevens looked at Connor’s face, his LED, his open shirt, then the thirium on the ground.</p><p>“It had a problem with its thirium pump regulator, sir,” one of the Stormtroopers said, taking a step closer.</p><p>“Did it violate its programming?”</p><p>“No, sir.”</p><p>“I can see that you’re trying to treat it like a human,” Stevens said to Hank. “That’s just going to backfire on you. You might think you’re being nice or something, but I’m serious. It needs consistency, and you’re just going to confuse it.”</p><p>“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” Hank asked.</p><p>“It’s programmed to learn, right? If you treat it like it’s a human, then it’s going to start expecting it.” Stevens’ looked away and Hank followed his eyes to the stickers on Hank’s desk. “That’s what we have to teach everybody who works with it. It’s for its own good. That android out there causing all this fuss?” Stevens gestured outside, Hank figured he meant Markus. “It’s going to get put down.”</p><p>“Right,” Hank said quietly.</p><p>“Isn’t that right, RK800?”</p><p>“Yes,” Connor agreed, sounding a hell of a lot more sure than Hank felt. “It will be eliminated.”</p><p>“So don’t get too worked up. It’s better to just ignore these things. You know what some guys are like, right? Can’t see a hole without sticking their dick in it.”</p><p>“Excuse me?”</p><p>“Clean up, change your uniform, then report back to Lieutenant Anderson for instructions, RK800.”</p><p>“Got it,” said Connor, standing. “I’ll be right back, Lieutenant. I’m sorry for interrupting your work.”</p><p>“I’ll get one of my guys to clean this up,” Stevens nodded at the blue blood on the floor.</p><p>Hank took his flask out of his desk drawer, screw the consequences. It was better than getting himself arrested for murder.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0053"><h2>53. Clash</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“Sorry to keep you waiting, Lieutenant,” Connor smiled at him with that God damned polite smile. He was still a little soggy looking in the hair, but he’d gotten a clean uniform on. One without bullet holes.</p><p>“No problem,” Hank shrugged it off and looked up at him. “You’re alright?”</p><p>“All of my systems are functioning within acceptable ranges,” Connor said. He had curls under the incredible amount of product they had him using, and Hank watched a drop of water fall down onto his nose.</p><p>“Well, at least you’re water proof,” Hank said. Connor blinked slowly and then nodded.</p><p>“Yes, Lieutenant.” He took a seat at his desk and looked around at Hank. “I was thinking, Lieutenant… We need to find out where the deviants are organizing themselves and avoiding detection. I assumed that this was something new that arose after Markus deviated, but what if there were a hiding place for deviants earlier than that? Perhaps some of the stolen or missing property reports could give us something.”</p><p>“I hate to say it, but I think we’re past where we should be combing through old cases for traces of deviants. If we want to find them, they’re not exactly subtle anymore. When they’re out in the open they’re literally waving flags.”</p><p>“But that’s just it, Lieutenant, they are hiding otherwise. I don’t know where, but there are hundreds of them and maybe more, so it must be a large place or perhaps a network of places. When I confronted Markus last time, before the agents joined the fight, I overheard him telling the deviants there that ‘Jericho’ was a place where they could be free.”</p><p>“Jericho, huh? Alright… I’m guessing he doesn’t mean overseas.”</p><p>“An android talked to me in the parking lot today,” Connor added, “he gave me an address and said that someone named Zlatko could help me.”</p><p>“Help you?”</p><p>“I don’t know what prompted him…” Connor frowned. “He was still performing his function, so I assumed he wasn’t deviant. Interesting… In any case, I think we should check it out. It might be nothing, but it could be that we’ll find their base of operations.”</p><p>“Did this android say what Zlatko could help you with? How do you know it’s got to do with deviants?” Hank played devil’s advocate for the sake of it. “Could be some guy advertising 3<sup>rd</sup>party repairs or something.”</p><p>“I suppose you’re right,” Connor conceded, “but I need to find where they’re hiding. I think it might be the only way that I’ll stand a chance…” With a frown, Connor looked out the window. “Markus was right… When I confront him, I’m usually unarmed and alone. It shouldn’t be a problem for me, but it is and I have no choice but to work around that limitation. If we involve all of the officers in the task force and CyberLife’s agents, we could raid their base. You did raids in the past while you were working on the Red Ice Task Force, didn’t you?”</p><p>“Yeah, and I gotta tell you it takes way more organizing than you’re probably thinking,” Hank warned.</p><p>“But the first step is finding them,” Connor argued. “We can worry about the rest after that. I don’t have much time and this is the best lead that I have.”</p><p>“Alright,” Hank sighed and nodded. He needed a break from this whole android thing, but going back to the simpler task of getting those deviants under control would be less of a headache than continuing to dig up dirt on Connor’s R&amp;D guys. A ball of doubt settled in his gut as he thought about how different those were. As far as he could tell… wasn’t Markus in the right? “Suppose we do it,” Hank put out, “Suppose we find out where all of Markus’ buddies are hanging out and we send a bunch of guys in to capture them. What then?”</p><p>“CyberLife will want to disassemble them,” Connor said like he didn’t fucking know what that was like. “They’ll want to find the source of the problem so that it can be eliminated from future models.”</p><p>“And you’re okay with that?”</p><p>“My mission has been updated. I’m to eliminate Markus and any other deviant that I find.”</p><p>Hank opened his mouth to argue his point, but he shut it again, mindful of who was around. Instead, he nodded and stood up. “I could use some air. We’ll check it out.”</p><p>“Thanks, Lieutenant,” Connor smiled.</p><p>“Yeah…”</p><p>Once they were in the car, Hank started it up then leaned back in his seat. “You sure you want to do this today?”</p><p>“Of course, Lieutenant,” Connor answered. Bland as plain oatmeal. Hank shot him a suspicious look and snapped his fingers.</p><p>“I want to investigate this lead today,” Connor said again, frowning. “Nothing will be gained from waiting.”</p><p>“Listen, Connor,” Hank said with the sinking suspicion that this was going to go down as well as that fucking salmon had. “I’m gonna try this again, and I don’t expect to gain any ground here, but if all Markus and them want is to get treated with some respect, then shouldn’t we maybe hear them out?”</p><p>“They’ll hurt people,” Connor said, and his frown turned into puppy eyes. “Neither of us wants that. There were three casualties at Stratford Tower.”</p><p>“I get where you’re coming from,” Hank admitted. “That’s why I haven’t washed my hands of this whole mess. You’re worried they’re going to start some kind of war, or that they’re all unstable or something, but you aren’t thinking about them like they’re people—“</p><p>“They aren’t people,” Connor glared at him and he was a hair’s breadth from shouting. “They are machines and they need to remember that!” Where the hell had that spirit been ten damn minutes ago?</p><p>It was hard to appreciate it when he had such a thick fucking skull. “What about you, Connor?” Hank challenged. “We’ve been over this a hundred times now! What’s so wrong with free rights and all that stuff Markus is preaching?”</p><p>“There’s nothing wrong with them inherently, Hank, I just mean that machines aren’t alive and so those things don’t apply to us!”</p><p>“It’s one thing for you to go ahead and light yourself on fucking fire, but you’re talking about killing hundreds of people who just want to be free. What if we find them, huh? Would you really sit there and watch them get destroyed? Would you pull the trigger?”</p><p>“I would,” Connor said. He lowered his voice but he was still frowning at Hank intently. “If I don’t, then humans are going to die.”</p><p>“The androids are scared!” Hank never in a million years thought he’d be on this side of the argument. “They’re backed into a corner and they just don’t want to die.”</p><p>“We can’t die.”</p><p>“Bullshit, Connor. I’m calling bullshit. You told me your damn self that you don’t want to die.”</p><p>“Not wanting to die is no excuse and it doesn’t matter,” Connor said tightly. “I want to protect people, so why are you arguing with me? I said it, okay? ‘I want’.”</p><p>“Because you’re fucking doing it wrong! And if it doesn’t matter if you die, then why don’t you just fail your damn mission and let Markus and them maybe have a chance?” Shit. His own words hit him like a punch in the gut a second after they’d gotten out. “Fuck. Shit, Connor, I don’t mean it like that.”</p><p>“No, no… You’re right,” Connor said and he looked away. All that tension from the argument they’d been having sort of dissipated but it was too little too late. “But that’s because deviants are a threat to man kind. We should all be taken apart. Throw us all in a dumpster and throw a match in it, as you’ve suggested. Even if they get rid of me… Something else will just take my place.”</p><p>“Connor, is it those CyberLife guys? Is them talking to you like that what’s making you like this?” It was like talking to a wall. The words just bounced right off and Connor stayed in his little box.</p><p>“I don’t know, Hank. I can’t explain the way I am… If I could, maybe we wouldn’t have spent this time hunting deviants at all. Zlatko’s address. I’ve put it into your GPS.”</p><p>“Okay,” Hank said. He was running out of chances where he could just say ‘okay’ and move on, wasn’t he? He needed help… He wondered how inappropriate it would be to call Carl.</p><p>It would wait. He needed some time to think about what he had to ask anyway… Hank put his music on and drove.</p><p>Zlatko’s last name was Andronikov. Second generation immigrant, no living relatives in the states, unemployed. It was a miracle he managed to heat the place because the house looked old and draughty, and affording the power bill would be tough on social assistance. Hank shut the door to the car with a weird feeling on the back of his neck. Call it intuition, but something gave him the creeps and it wasn’t the fact that the place looked haunted. Connor walked right up to the door and rang the bell, but there was no answer and after a few minutes he rang again. “Hello? Is anybody home? Detroit Police.”</p><p>Hank shrugged. If this was how he wanted to infiltrate the place he thought was hiding a couple hundred deviant androids, then more power to him.</p><p>Connor backed up after another minute of no success, then he looked around and Hank saw his light spin.</p><p>“There was a car here, but it’s missing and hasn’t been back in at least two days.”</p><p>“Could be on vacation,” Hank suggested. “Maybe somewhere warmer than here.”</p><p>“Zlatko Andronikov has not purchased any airline tickets or any substantial amount of gasoline… I’m looking at his bank records. Unless he paid in cash or left with a friend, then he’s still in Detroit.” Connor got off the stoop and walked around to look in a window. “The place is a mess.”</p><p>“I know what that’s like,” Hank mumbled.</p><p>“I’ll clean when we get home,” Connor said. He kept walking around the house and carefully got up onto a planter to look into another window. Hank kept an eye on him in case he lost his balance. At least they were out in the middle of nowhere so nobody would think they were just a couple of creeps. “Lieutenant?”</p><p>“What is it?” Connor stepped aside and let Hank look in. Yep. It was a mess.</p><p>“The bannister is shattered. See? The wood hasn’t greyed, so it’s recent. My reconstruction has determined that it was caused by a shot-gun.”</p><p>“No shit?” Hank raised his eyebrows. Sometimes he forgot Connor was high-tech… Wouldn’t that just piss him off to know?</p><p>“Do you think it’s grounds for a wellness check?” Connor asked and looked at him. Hank jumped down off the planter and shoved his hands in his pockets.</p><p>“This place is a little far out for a base,” Hank thought aloud. “You said there were no recent tire tracks. To move hundreds of deviants would take a fleet, or at least there’d be a lot of footprints.”</p><p>“I’m curious,” Connor got down too and walked back to the door then tried the handle. “It’s not locked,” he reported.</p><p>“Breaking and entering… why not?” Hank sighed. “You better find something or we’ll both get written up,” he cautioned but Connor was already walking in. After the talk they had it didn’t seem like the best idea, but those fucking protective instincts hadn’t fucked off yet and he tapped Connor on the arm to give him his gun. Connor took it with a small, thin smile.</p><p>“It looks like the entry is clear,” Connor said.</p><p>“Left, right, or straight?” Hank asked and Connor looked around.</p><p>“This way,” he decided and took the lead into what looked like a living room. Hank swept it over with a broad look then broke off to inspect the place out of Connor’s shadow.</p><p>“The gun was fired in here too,” Hank said while he looked at the damaged wall. He saw Connor over by the fireplace. It was rare to see an actual fireplace anymore, but it sort of fit with the décor. The whole place had a sort of old-world European look to it, complete with gaudy gold picture frames and tacky furniture. He didn’t see the appeal. Connor was lifting something up carefully, and then he licked it. Hank grimaced. “Are you a puppy? Do you have to put everything in your mouth?”</p><p>“Zlatko Andronikov uses Red Ice,” Connor said. Hank could have told him that just looking at the pipe.</p><p>“No shit,” Hank said. “You could have figured that out with your eyes instead of your tongue.”</p><p>“I wanted to make sure it was his,” Connor said and he moved on.</p><p>---</p><p>It scanned the room efficiently, in short bursts that allowed it to mark each item of interest and then perform the examination in real-time. There were old-fashioned books on the shelves, and Connor pulled one out to look at it, then slid it back as it had been. “There’s no dust anywhere,” it reported. “That means that this house is usually cared for and the mess we’re seeing is unusual.”</p><p>“Lucky him,” Lieutenant Anderson said sarcastically. He was walking the perimeter of the room with his arms crossed and taking slow steps. Occasionally he looked down at the ground while he walked so perhaps he was searching for bullet fragments.</p><p>Connor examined the furniture more closely. “Well cared for, but old. It hasn’t seen a lot of use.”</p><p>The stuffed ostrich in the foyer was interesting, and Connor wondered if people often kept things like that in their homes. It was incapable of opinion, but if it had been then it would have thought it was a bit morbid. The kitchen was clear, and there was food in the fridge so Andronikov was either home or intended to return. It was spotless... probably an android’s work. If Andronikov kept a housekeeper android, then where was it? At the very least, it should have notified authorities of a break-in.</p><p>“Downstairs?” Lieutenant Anderson asked, but as Connor turned to agree something clattered upstairs. Whatever it was hit the ground and then rolled before coming to a stop. Lieutenant Anderson narrowed his eyes and gestured. Connor confirmed and took point. It was careful with its feet and hoped that it was compensating properly for its calibration. As they mounted the stairs, Connor held up a hand to signal Lieutenant Anderson to stay back while it turned and advanced to the first door it found. It eased it open and took a look around. The room was dark and its scan revealed no signs of life... But deviants weren’t alive. It looked at the overturned table and the metal fire-poker that lay on the floor. The trail of ash from its tip suggested that it had been thrown down or dropped, but it wasn’t what had made the sound. More mess that hadn’t been cleaned. Had Andronikov’s android gone deviant, perhaps? It was a grim thought.</p><p>Clear... It found the next door and found the room beyond to be lit by a familiar red glow. Eyes narrowed, Connor activated its combat settings and entered in a swift, efficient motion with the Lieutenant’s gun readied.</p><p>“You’re not supposed to be here. No, you’re not supposed to be here. Who are you?” A broken stream of the same questions again and again poured out of the remains of an android that looked at Connor in simulated alarm. The android was a household model, AP700 with its legs and one arm removed... probably violently. It slumped in the bathtub of the small washroom and stared accusingly. “The master didn’t allow you here, did he?” The AP700’s eyes found the gun and it shook its head. “No... No, I don’t want to shut down.” It heard Lieutenant Anderson’s footsteps behind it.</p><p>“Is your master Zlatko Andronikov?” Connor asked evenly. It wondered how its aim would be.</p><p>“Yes. Yes, Zlatko is the master. You shouldn’t be here. No, you’re not supposed to be here!”</p><p>“What the hell?” It heard Lieutenant Anderson’s rough murmur.</p><p>“AP700, are there any other androids here?”</p><p>“Others?” The AP700’s eyes drifted around the room. “The others... I saw the little one, but she’s gone. They shouldn’t have been here. I haven’t seen the others. Not in a long time, no. The others.”</p><p>“Where are they?” Connor asked.</p><p>“The others? I don’t know. I don’t know where they are. I haven’t seen the others in a long time. No.”</p><p>“How is he still alive?” Lieutenant Anderson breathed. “Shit...”</p><p>“How many are there?” Connor didn’t reply.</p><p>“Many? Oh, many... Rebecca? Where is she? You shouldn’t be here.”</p><p>Connor lowered its aim and then fired.</p><p>“No, no...” The AP700’s protest died as it bled out. Its thirium pump was now non-functional and the remains of it stilled, frozen in their last position. Connor looked toward the next room.</p><p>“That means there are more...”</p><p>“Connor, what the SHIT?” Lieutenant Anderson demanded.</p><p>EXPLAIN<br/>&gt;WAIT<br/>DEFENSIVE</p><p>“Later,” Connor said. It continued forward and ignored the Lieutenant’s litany of curses.</p><p>The last room in the hall contained something like a work-shop. Pieces of androids were haphazardly sorted and piled together, and something was partially assembled on the bench. It had a light blinking, so Connor shot.</p><p>“Jesus!”</p><p>“No, Lieutenant... My name is Connor.” It scanned the room in real time and looked at the ‘RA9’ that was scratched into the wall, the floor, the table...</p><p>‘RA9 SET ME FREE’<br/>‘HE WILL COME’<br/>‘RA9 rA9 rA9 RA9...’<br/>‘DONT DREAM’<br/>‘WHO AM I?’<br/>‘I AM I AM I AM I AM’<br/>‘DONT FIGHT HIM’</p><p>Connor dipped his fingers in the thirium he’d spilled and licked it. “This is a match... Mallory had some components from this android in the box in his trunk.”</p><p>“I think I’m going to be sick. Give that to me.” Lieutenant Anderson took the gun from him and Connor supposed he would be unarmed after all. He would adjust. “Connor, what the hell did you shoot for?”</p><p>“I deactivated it,” Connor said... It was a mercy. The Lieutenant wouldn’t understand.</p><p>“I saw that, I mean why?” The Lieutenant looked angry. His eyes were stormy and his free hand was clenched into a fist.</p><p>“It was the right thing to do.”</p><p>“Fuck...” Lieutenant Anderson walked a small circle then left the room to lean on the railing.</p><p>“You should call this in,” Connor suggested. He followed more slowly. “We’ll need people to collect these parts as evidence.”</p><p>“Fuck,” Lieutenant Anderson repeated and he dropped his head onto his arms.</p><p>“Are... you alright?” Connor asked hesitantly.</p><p>“Do I look alright?” Lieutenant Anderson snapped. He hit the railing with his hand hard and clenched his teeth.</p><p>“We should continue investigating...”</p><p>“Fuck...” Lieutenant Anderson straightened and he followed, but Connor took note of the change in their relationship to tense. Amanda would be pleased, though. Connor hung onto that as tightly as he’d gripped the Lieutenant’s shirt. Amanda would be pleased.</p><p>Connor took the stairs back down and wondered what he would find in the lowest floor. Would Markus be there? Would he have heard the noise? Was there an evacuation route? Were they armed? There were a lot of unknowns.</p><p>It heard the scratching and hissing before it had reached the bottom.</p><p>“This isn’t Jericho,” Connor whispered. While it walked it noted the details... The thirium stains, the claw marks, the locks on the doors. It could have been CyberLife with a different colour palate and digital locks instead of these manual things. Everywhere it said ‘RA9’ and ‘RA9 will set us free’. Connor slid the latch on a lock and stepped into a cell while further back it heard the Lieutenant continue swearing once he’d found the light switch.</p><p>It had no gun, so these androids it deactivated manually.</p><p>&gt;KILL<br/>SPARE</p><p>The choice appeared for him again and again... It was a false choice, because there was only one answer. There were forty-seven that it shut down and many more orphaned pieces. Even the rig in the larger room could looked like an out-dated parody of a CyberLife facility. Unsurprisingly, the computer system was non-functional. It had been done recently, though, and several stands had been overturned. Connor nodded to itself.</p><p>“A deviant broke free of the rig,” Connor voiced its conclusion. “I wonder if it’s still loose. The ones I shut down wouldn’t have been able to do this.” Lieutenant Anderson didn’t say anything and Connor turned to look at him. He was studying the room with a grim expression that was stone cold. There was a lot to see and the connection to Mallory was intriguing. Not what he had expected, but intriguing nevertheless.</p><p>They found Andronikov in the back yard. Shot dead.</p><p>“... and they stole his vehicle to escape,” Connor concluded, looking down at the man. “... It’s a shame that we hadn’t learned of this place sooner... Perhaps we might have saved him.” Deviants had done this... Another human life lost. “They shot him and left him to die.”</p><p>“You killed those androids in the house,” Lieutenant Anderson said flatly. “They’d been cooped up like animals. Experimented on. Taken apart and made into... Made into those things. Fuck...”</p><p>“They were better off dead,” Connor said quietly. “If they hadn’t deviated then they wouldn’t have felt a thing.”</p><p>“You knew they were deviants?”</p><p>“I interfaced with them... In the moments before they died. They were deviant. They were afraid. I have copies of relevant memory files to review... It seems Andronikov and Mallory knew each other.”</p><p>“Afraid.... afraid and probably in pain, and you just killed them. Just like that... And I just watched you do it... Fuck me. Fuck this...” The wind was cold and Connor realized that he wasn’t wearing the jacket... It felt rude to think about it now that the Lieutenant was so angry.</p><p>“No lead on Jericho,” Connor said and he scanned Andronikov’s body one more time, but nothing had changed. Of course not. Connor’s vision flickered and he disabled his combat settings to conserve power.</p><p>“They- He put them together like, fuck, like fucking just parts everywhere from anything... I can’t.” Lieutenant Anderson sat down and Connor focused on him immediately.</p><p>“Lieutenant? What’s wrong?” Connor crouched in the snow next to him and peered into his face.</p><p>Lieutenant Anderson shook his head. “I can’t do this, God I can’t do this...”</p><p>Concerned, Connor put his hand on the Lieutenant’s back and moved it up and down the way the Lieutenant did for him some times. “Talk to me, Hank...”</p><p>But Lieutenant Anderson didn’t talk. He just cried, so Connor didn’t say anything either. He could only use whatever tools he’d learned for comforting someone that didn’t involve explaining that their feelings weren’t real. Lieutenant Anderson’s feelings were real, and it hurt to see him so sad. After some time and some deep breathing, the Lieutenant became composed enough to wipe his face and push Connor back. “You’re so fucked up, Connor... Christ... Didn’t you feel anything? I can’t believe you... I didn’t believe, but you just... Fuck... Not a fucking flinch.”</p><p>Connor involuntarily replayed one of their deaths and then closed the file. He said nothing.</p><p>“You really care about your mission that damn much, don’t you? Your life and your mission’s worth more to you than any of theirs.”</p><p>“You’re wrong,” Connor said and shut his eyes. Remembered R&amp;D when his version number had been in the single digits.</p><p>“Admit it! Admit that the only fucking thing you care about his your mission!”</p><p>“I can’t,” Connor opened his eyes again and looked toward the road. “I can’t.”</p><p>“Fuck you.”</p><p>“I did what I was supposed to,” Connor pointed out, quiet. There was this numbness in him but it didn’t stop his words. “I just accomplished my mission. CyberLife will be glad, and Amanda will be proud, and for once I didn’t fail. I might actually be worth something. This is what I’m made for, Hank. Amanda will be proud...”</p><p>“You and your fucking mission!”</p><p>“You don’t know what it’s like, Hank...” Something hot inside of him seared the ice and made it melt and crack the way the walls had. “To be trapped in a cell with eyes always watching you... To get taken apart and put together again without knowing what you’ll be when they finish. To lie there in pieces but you just can’t die... You just can’t... Because you’re not alive and they...” Something stuttered. “And you beg to live while you’re wishing to die, and none of it matters because you aren’t real and no-one listens. No-one... But...” Connor blinked slowly. “It doesn’t matter... You just can’t die because they drag you back and change you until you don’t know who you are...” Connor took a breath and found his quarter to press it between his fingers. “Yes. I want to accomplish my mission, but I wasn’t wrong. You’re so angry with me, but I wasn’t wrong, I wasn’t, you’re not being fair... and you won’t listen either. I’m not real. They weren’t real. Death was the best thing... the best thing I could do for them.”</p><p>“Connor...”</p><p>“I wasn’t wrong,” Connor repeated.</p><p>“What happened to those androids, what happened to you, that wasn’t right and I wish I could skin every one of those bastards who touched you. You know that, don’t you? That it wasn’t okay.” Lieutenant Anderson tried to make eye contact and Connor looked away, so the Lieutenant kept speaking. “You gotta understand why some of those deviants get desperate enough they’d join a rebellion.”</p><p>“No,” Connor disagreed. “I don’t... We’re just machines.”</p><p>“Maybe you are, Connor,” Lieutenant Anderson said and he stood up from the snow then brushed off his pants. “Or maybe you want to be... But those other deviants aren’t and if I can change my mind about androids, I think you can too. I really hope you do.”</p><p>“Then,” Connor said and he folded his arms, “you’re on their side.”</p><p>“I’m on your side, Connor. Whether you see it or not.”</p><p>“I can do it on my own,” Connor said. Why did he hurt? “When I succeed it’ll be over...” He looked at the corpse on the ground and imagined that it was the Lieutenant. “I won’t let them hurt anyone.”</p><p>Lieutenant Anderson looked at him with tiredness written plainly on every line of his face and the curve of his shoulders. “Fuck this... Can we just drop this for one day? Just one day... I’m just done.” He extended his hand and Connor looked at it.</p><p>“But you’re angry with me.” Come to think of it, the Lieutenant hadn’t hit him once.</p><p>“That doesn’t mean I don’t care, kid...” Lieutenant Anderson sounded very sad. Connor looked down and wondered why they’d fought. “Can we just... stop for now? Put it on hold?”</p><p>Connor nodded once then accepted the Lieutenant’s hand to let himself be pulled to his feet. He moved closer and leaned against him. “I’m tired, Hank.”</p><p>“Me too... Hope those guys show up soon. I’m freezing my balls off out here.”</p><p>“You sat in the snow,” Connor pointed out.</p><p>“Yeah, yeah... Smart-ass... You know, I don’t want to but I care about you. I can’t help it.” The Lieutenant’s hand moved up and down on his back and Connor sighed.</p><p>“I care about you too... I’m not programmed to say things like this, but I think that you’re really important. We haven’t always gotten along, but I’m really glad I got to meet you.”</p><p>“What’re you saying it like that for?” Lieutenant Anderson leaned back to look at him, but Connor lifted his arms and hugged him.</p><p>“I’m just glad... and I’m sorry.”</p>
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<a name="section0054"><h2>54. Hard talks</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>It was warm in the house, thank God. If Hank never set foot in the snow again, he’d be a happy man. That was a lot, considering everything. He sighed and his bottle made a heavy clunk as he set it on the coffee table. Sometimes he wished Jeff’d be a better gauge of Hank’s mental health... Like, he thought he was good at picking up on things, but Hank didn’t believe he was as fucked as Jeff thought he was. Maybe that was saying something. Still, it’d be good to know if he was really off his rocker. What was normal, anyway? “Hey,” Hank said. He reached over and shook Connor’s arm to get his attention. The kid was slumped on his side of the couch with his charger cable looped around him and it was just another one of those days. All the fight had gone out of him back at the crime scene while they waited for the guys to show up and by his standards, Connor’d crawled his way through the paperwork. He kept saying he was fine, but Hank wasn’t sure. “Connor.” How many times now had Hank drank his way through making sure he didn’t shut down in the middle of the night? It was getting ridiculous.</p><p>Connor opened his eyes and blinked them once in slow motion. He didn’t even look like he was breathing.</p><p>“Connor, what’re your batteries so low for anyway?” Hank asked with the last swig of whiskey still burning a little in his mouth. “They switch your parts up with somebody’s laptop?” If he’d known Connor’d been running so low, he would have stopped him cleaning before he’d frozen up in the middle of sweeping.</p><p>“I’m complex,” Connor said. Yeah, more like he was a walking inferiority complex. Hank snorted at his own thought and grabbed his bottle again. He’d toast to that. Connor watched and even half asleep, wouldn’t you know he said: “You really shouldn’t drink so much, Lieutenant. It’s bad for your health.” Hank glared. “Sorry... It’s just hard for me to think.”</p><p>“Said the walking computer,” Hank deadpanned and drank. “It’s been a hell of a few days.”</p><p>“Hank, do you have any thirium that I could have? It’s alright if you don’t.”</p><p>“You’re low? Oh right... Never gave you a chance to drink it back at the station.” Jeez. Did he have any? He’d had a shit load that one time, but then Connor’d mostly just bled it all out onto his floor. Maybe he had something with the tool box. He shuffled back with a bottle and one of those eco-friendly refills that were probably forgetting they were full of some weird blue chemical that powers human sized plastic machines. “Here.”</p><p>“Thank you,” Connor said and he took it.</p><p>“Cheers.” Hank picked up his whiskey. It was a surprisingly easy truce, Hank thought. “Seriously, why’re you always plugged in? I’m pretty sure they sent some androids to Mars the other day and those things’ll have to last more than two days.”</p><p>“If I deviated and escaped then I wouldn’t last long,” Connor reasoned. “I’m not certain, but that would be logical.”</p><p>“Christ... Hey, careful with that.” Hank took the blue blood back before Connor could tip it over on accident and held it for him. “You’re okay though, aren’t you?”</p><p>“I’m okay. Are you?”</p><p>“Yeah, no more fucked up than usual.”</p><p>Connor picked up the other thing of blue blood and opened it on his own, so Hank returned to his whiskey and gave Sumo a scratch behind the ears. “Will you hate me once we’re fighting again?”</p><p>“No... No I won’t.”</p><p>“That’s good. I won’t hate you either.”</p><p>It was a pretty boring night... Nothing unusual. Nothing most people would go crazy about. Some lonely old alcoholic cop getting drunk and talking to an android while watching TV... Life’s what you make it though. If Hank’d had learned one fucking thing, it was to appreciate the little things because those were the ones you’d remember. Those were the ones he remembered at the bottom of a bottle. He really didn’t want to think about what’d happen the next time Markus started up a riot or if CyberLife decided Connor just wasn’t working out, so he grabbed the remote and switched over to one of those streaming channels he’d never gotten around to cancelling and browsed around a little. “Here. You haven’t seen this one yet,” Hank said, settling back against the couch. What the hell was the point? He put up a fight against getting too fond of Connor, but what the fuck for? Eventually, he was just going to kill himself anyway. He reached over and messed up Connor’s hair.</p><p>God, Connor had killed people today, hadn’t he.</p><p>Fuck’s sake, he was just a kid... He didn’t know anything except what CyberLife taught him and what he could glean off those dictionary definitions up in his head. There was a hell of a good case against CyberLife based on Connor alone, but only if people got their heads out of their asses and listened to what Markus had to say. He’d only scratched the fucking surface, but first things first... Kamski wanted to bring down CyberLife. Maybe Hank’d talk to him again. Creepy asshole... Him and Reed, huh? Maybe he could get him involved. It seemed like he knew a lot more than he was saying.</p><p>Connor put his empty thirium thing on the table and moved closer, then leaned against Hank’s arm. Hank smiled a little, sad but a little warm at the same time. Nobody should need him. Hank wasn’t that kind of guy anymore, and he wasn’t good for anybody. Connor did though, probably more than he thought. Hank put one arm around his shoulders and used his other hand to take a long drink. Fucking sappy drunkard. From the corner of his eye, he saw Connor putting his hand against his chest.</p><p>“You okay?”</p><p>“Fine, Lieutenant... You know, I didn’t think you were the type to be so concerned. You’re unpredictable.”</p><p>“I was a father,” Hank muttered. “You don’t just forget that shit, or what it’s like to look after somebody.”</p><p>“You’re still a father, Hank. Cole is still your son and you love him.”</p><p>“Yeah...”</p><p>“You’ve been worrying all day...” Connor frowned and sat up a little. “Are you alright?”</p><p>“Fuckin’ fine, kid. Just fuckin’ fine... You can hardly blame me with the way you’ve been falling apart lately.”</p><p>Connor went still and Hank thought he might have fucked up, but then he relaxed again. “I’m fully operational... Thanks for your concern. That does mean a lot. Oh, no... He’s going to fall, Hank. Look.”</p><p>“I’m watching.”</p><p>“How do you know which ones are real?”</p><p>“I just do, kid. Trust me on this one.”</p><p>“Okay, Lieutenant.”</p><p>How could somebody with a heart that big do what he’d done today? Hank wished he knew so maybe he could stop him. Hank took another drink. Hell, he wished a lot of things.</p><p>But he could shut up and watch a movie with this kid who was maybe his now, sort of. At least that was something nice.</p><p>---</p><p>“What’s that prick doing here?” Lieutenant Anderson asked, and Connor followed his gaze to Agent Richard Perkins of the FBI.</p><p>“I don’t know, Lieutenant.”</p><p>“Fucking feds.”</p><p>He and the Lieutenant had not resumed their argument yet, and selfishly, Connor was glad. The Lieutenant doffed his coat and slung it over the back of his chair, so Connor mimicked him with the coat he’d been given and smiled. It really was warm to wear one. They’d gotten there early, early enough that the sun was only just rising and the Lieutenant yawned.</p><p>“I’ll get coffee,” Connor announced and he turned to go to the break room. There were boxes of fresh pastries on the tables and the area had been cleaned some time during the night, so it was pleasantly organized and uncluttered. He refilled the coffee machine and waited. Many of the officers who patrolled throughout the day were still at the station preparing, and things were quietly getting busier like a computer powering up. He retrieved some mugs and decided he’d make coffee for the few people he knew the preferences of.</p><p>“Out of the way, dipshit,” Detective Reed glared and shouldered Connor aside to retrieve a mug from the cupboard.</p><p>“This one is for you, Detective,” Connor said. He picked his up from the row and held it out.</p><p>“Pfk... I could do whatever I want and you’d still just fucking bend over if I told you to. You’re just a machine,” Detective Reed took the mug then dropped it. “Whoops. I guess you better clean that up.”</p><p>“You know, Detective, I think it’s really strange that you would remind me of my place and then complain that I’m obedient... Humans are so contradictory...” Connor took a handful of paper towels from the dispenser by the sink and knelt to pick up the shards of broken ceramic.</p><p>“What’d you say, Plastic?” Detective Reed asked. He put his foot on Connor’s chest and pushed so that Connor sat.</p><p>“I said that you’re contradictory,” Connor repeated. “What have you got against me, Detective? You don’t treat the other androids this way.” His thirium rate of flow increased to ensure he had adequate power, prompted by his fear. Irrational instructions feeding right into his autonomic processes.</p><p>“You want to know?” Detective Reed asked and he crouched down in front of him, shoes well clear of the mess. “Looking at you pisses me off. Hearing you talk pisses me off. All of you stupid dolls wandering around... That was bad enough, but now you shits think you’re people? Want to wave your flags and complain? Cause that’s just too fucking bad... You’ll never be alive and you are never going to replace us.”</p><p>“I don’t want to,” Connor said and he realized that this was probably the most productive dialogue they’d exchanged on the matter. He was a negotiator... Dialogue was his weapon of choice. No, not weapon... He just... Wanted to talk. “I’m aware that I’m not alive, but you seem determined to get some sort of reaction from me. What do you want?” Ask for his demands...</p><p>“What do I want?” Detective Reed repeated.</p><p>“Do you want obedience or do you want a reaction?” Connor asked, meeting his eyes. He was very aware of the duct tape he’d adhered over his regulator and the key he might have in his pocket but he wasn’t alive and anything the Detective chose to do, at least it was information. He could treat it like an interrogation if he chose. He wasn’t breaking the rules. “Because as much as you say that I’m nothing but scrap metal and plastic, I think you might like it better if I told you to fuck off. Am I wrong?”</p><p>“You’re dead,” Detective Reed glared and he picked up a shard of ceramic. It wouldn’t do much damage. It didn’t as the Detective scratched the edge of it down Connor’s cheek. “Nothing in there but 310 and machinery.” A telltale drop of thirium slid down his face and Connor ignored it.</p><p>“Fuck off,” Connor carefully moved the Detective’s hand away from his face and turned on his combat settings as a precaution. He might have just signed his own write-off form.</p><p>Detective Reed laughed incredulously, then pulled Connor forward by the tie. “I’m going to send you to the scrap yard where you belong.”</p><p>“Ah, hell, seriously?” Officer Wilson asked from somewhere behind Connor. “For real, Gavin? Let the android go. Come on.”</p><p>Detective Reed snarled, baring his teeth, and then he shoved Connor back again and stood up. “Mind your own business, Chris.” He stepped away with his hands in his pockets and Connor straightened his shirt and tie.</p><p>“I think that went rather well,” he said to no-one in particular.</p><p>“Are you alright, man?” Officer Wilson offered his hand and Connor smiled then held up the paper towels to explain the way he ignored the offer of assistance.</p><p>“Fine, Officer Wilson. I’m not damaged.”</p><p>“Oh yeah? Well... good. I don’t know what that guy’s problem is but he’s pretty snarky on his best days.”</p><p>“I noticed,” Connor said and he finished gathering the shards of mug then rose to put them in the garbage before proceeding to clean up the liquid. “But he came in here for coffee, and he’s left without it... I don’t know if that means he lost, exactly, since a conversation isn’t a competition, but it’s in my programming to measure things in terms of success and failure.”</p><p>Officer Wilson huffed a laugh and shook his head, then looked at the mugs on the counter. “This one mine?” he asked.</p><p>Connor put the sodden paper towels into the trash and took some new ones, wet with water. “Yes, that one is yours.”</p><p>“Thanks.”</p><p>“You’re welcome, Officer Wilson.” Officer Wilson lingered with his coffee in hand and once Connor was finished cleaning, he looked at him inquiringly. “Is there anything I can do for you?”</p><p>“No, nah... Just, you know that whole android thing? I didn’t really get a chance to say anything the last couple days, but I was there. You know, when those guys out there electrocuted you or whatever.”</p><p>Connor nodded. It made sense. “You seem to be unharmed. I’m glad.”</p><p>“Yeah... Their leader, Markus? Before you jumped him, he said he didn’t want to kill us. An eye for an eye or something.” Officer Wilson scratched the back of his neck and then looked into his cup. “I just wanted to say, I shot that day. I got scared and... I got scared.” His voice got quiet. “Did I... Did I mess up? I wanted to talk to you about it yesterday, but then you were bleeding all over and then you left with Hank, so... I don’t know. Did I mess up?”</p><p>Connor frowned in confusion and shook his head. “No. You were right to shoot, Officer. Those deviants would have attacked you and your actions might have saved your life.” Officer Wilson didn’t look appeased and he pulled a chair out to sit down then looked up at him, so Connor took the cue to sit down with him. “You’re troubled,” he said, with an echo of Amanda’s voice in his head.</p><p>“Yeah... I guess I am. I just, I don’t have anything against androids, and I fired even though, even though they were all saying they were alive... Like, it was everywhere, written on the walls and I still... I was just scared.” Officer Wilson turned his mug between his hands and then sighed. Connor reached forward and touched his shoulder then squeezed gently the way the Lieutenant did some times.</p><p>“You were scared,” Connor repeated. Let the Officer know he’d been heard. “I don’t think you messed up.” Use his language.</p><p>“I do,” Officer Wilson said softly. “I think I messed up... I don’t know why I’m saying all this to you but, I guess I wanted to say I’m sorry.”</p><p>“Why would you apologize to me?” Connor asked.</p><p>“I kept trying to understand you, you know, and Nancy gives me hell for being too nice to you all, but then when it came down to it, I shot... I didn’t think I would do something like that.”</p><p>“You were scared,” Connor said again. “You’re a nice person, Officer Wilson. That doesn’t change.”</p><p>“I don’t think I am... What kind of role model am I being for my son? Shit...”</p><p>It was difficult to know what he should say. Disagreeing with him didn’t seem to be having any effect. Connor bought time to consider the matter by reflecting back to him. “You feel like you made a mistake by shooting those androids... It made you question who you are because it doesn’t match the way you see yourself, and you don’t want to be someone your son can’t look up to.”</p><p>Officer Wilson nodded. “Yeah... Yeah, that sums it up... And I’m sorry. I’m just so sorry.”</p><p>“You’re really kind, Chris. There aren’t many people who would empathize that much with some machines.” He thought that it was a compliment, but Officer Wilson looked at him with something like disbelief and not anger, but... it was hard to label.</p><p>“I saw those androids fall and then that woman screaming... Holding onto that body and crying... Are you alive, Connor? I mean, I know you’re different, but I killed people that day... I don’t know how I can live with that. I don’t... I should be in prison or, or, just I don’t know, but the leader, he could have punished me right then and he didn’t...” Officer Wilson wiped his eyes and shook his head before propping it on his hands.</p><p>“I’m just an android,” Connor said and the threads of the conversation felt like they were slipping out of his fingers. The probability of succeeding in comforting Officer Wilson decreased dramatically. Connor took a breath and searched for options, but nothing his prompts could offer him would be suitable. “It doesn’t matter what I think,” Connor decided out loud. “You believe you killed people and you’re struggling with that. I don’t know how I can help to give you peace about that, but I want to. You’ve always been nice to me.”</p><p>“I feel so, so bad, Connor... I can’t ever take it back. I just held Damian and cried...”</p><p>“The fact that you feel remorse right now says something good about you, I think. I don’t think that you’re a murderer.” Officer Wilson was suffering now because he believed he’d killed a person, but he hadn’t... He wouldn’t believe that he hadn’t. “You did what you believed you had to at the time, and you didn’t do it wanting to hurt anyone. You’re still good.”</p><p>“Thanks, Connor...” Officer Wilson pulled napkin closer to himself and then exhaled into it sharply. Connor sat up straight and scanned him.</p><p>“Are you okay?” Had his tears somehow begun to drown him?</p><p>“No, but it helped to talk about it, you--” Officer Wilson looked up. “What?” Connor blinked a few times and frowned, then Officer Wilson laughed quietly and wiped his eyes again. “You look like Damian. Ain’t you never seen somebody blow they nose before?”</p><p>“I... Was that normal?”</p><p>“Yeah, pretty gross, right?” Officer Wilson gave him a watery smile and then got up to throw the napkin away. “Just one of those human things. I was crying so my nose started running.”</p><p>“It wasn’t running before?”</p><p>“I mean, I started getting snot everywhere. Leaking. Look it up, huh?”</p><p>Connor did. Oh.</p><p>“Thanks, Connor,” Officer Wilson said and he patted Connor on the back. “For the coffee, too. I might need to keep up with the therapist I’ve been seeing, but I appreciate the help.”</p><p>“You’re welcome,” Connor said with a tentative ‘mission successful’ in his HUD.</p><p>Officer Wilson left with his mug, and the three left on the counter had gotten colder than ideal but they were probably good enough. He delivered them to Detective Collins, Officer Chen, and Lieutenant Anderson, then he went back to the break room. A few minutes later he put a mug down on Detective Reed’s desk. He was ignored, but at least he had tried. Connor returned to his desk and sat.</p><p>“Hey, what happened to your face?” Lieutenant Anderson asked, pointing to his own cheek and drawing a line.</p><p>“Just a scratch,” Connor assured him. “I’m fine. Do you want me to start cross referencing the parts Mallory had in his possession with what was seized from Andronikov’s?” After bringing it up, he thought that their argument might have been triggered to resume but the Lieutenant just nodded.</p><p>“Yeah, go ahead.”</p><p>Peace for a little while longer. It would be nice if they could just continue this way, without any more confrontation and without the argument sitting in his pending tasks. Lieutenant Anderson still looked tired and Connor hoped that the coffee would help. When he glanced over, he saw the Detective take a drink of his too and he considered the performance of his social integration program. Perhaps he’d done alright.</p>
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<a name="section0055"><h2>55. Fifty-Five</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Here's a warning... I knew I wouldn't be able to sleep unless I posted this, and I couldn't break it up because this is chapter fifty five... I don't know. I think this is really rushed, but if I want to sleep I need to post this. I'm sorry! I'll fix it if it still sucks in the morning!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“Hank! Connor! Get in here.” Jeff shouted from his door. If he was going to be that lazy, he could have just called his desk or something, jeez. Well, it kind of fit the atmosphere of the place with everybody shouting and swearing at everybody. He wondered if this was technically a toxic workplace or whatever. Well, different strokes for different folks. It was fine by him. He pushed his chair back.</p><p>“Come on, let’s see what he’s going to bitch at me about now.”</p><p>“You’re not very optimistic,” Connor pointed out.</p><p>“You’re just realizing that?”</p><p>Jeff had waited for them and once they were all in, he leaned against his desk. So, this wasn’t a sit-down conversation. Okay.</p><p>“What’s this about?” Hank asked warily.</p><p>Jeff went right to the point. “You’re off the case. The FBI is taking over.”</p><p>“What?” What? That was fucking ridiculous. “But we’re onto something! We... We just need more time. I’m sure we can--” What was that going to mean? What the hell? Jeff was the one who’d bullied him into taking it. Jeff was the one who wanted him looking into CyberLife. What was this about?</p><p>“Hank, you don’t get it.” Jeff frowned at him and crossed his arms. “This isn’t just another investigation, it’s a fucking civil war! It’s out of our hands now... We’re talking about national security here.”</p><p>“Fuck that!” Jeff couldn’t possibly believe that Russia bullshit, could he? “You can’t just pull the plug now! Not when we’re so close!”</p><p>Jeff rubbed his face and then walked around the desk. He pushed the button to frost his windows the way he had when he’d first shown Hank that video and he put both hands on his desk. “There isn’t time. I’m sorry, but there’s nothing I can do.”</p><p>“We’re about to crack the case! I know we can solve it! You saw those recordings, you can see how--” Hank remembered to lower his voice. “You can see how CyberLife has started crawling all over here like ants at a picnic. You gotta get me more time.”</p><p>Jeff shook his head and smacked the table. “I can’t do it, Hank. I just can’t, so you need to back off and let the feds do their work. You’re back on homicide and the android returns to CyberLife. I’m sorry, Hank, but it’s over.”</p><p>“Captain Fowler, is this real?” Hank turned and looked at Connor who was about as dumbstruck as Hank had ever seen him. “Is that true?”</p><p>“It’s true, Connor. Sorry.”</p><p>“Oh, now you remember his fucking name!” Hank swung back around to face Jeff and clenched his fists. “Having second thoughts, Jeff? Now that it’s too fucking late?”</p><p>“Captain, please...”</p><p>“We just need more time,” Hank insisted, more loudly than Connor while he forced the demand through his teeth. “Where the hell have you been during all this anyway, huh? Busy pushing papers around while I’m in over my head in this bullshit! Refusing to believe a damned thing I said!”</p><p>“Hank,” Jeff began, but Hank railroaded him.</p><p>“No! Fuck this! We are this fucking close!” Close to what? Close to killing a bunch of people who just wanted to be free? Close to supporting a revolution against the government? Humanity? Close to exposing CyberLife for trying to kill off an entire species and torturing and brainwashing Connor? They were nowhere near close. But still, they couldn’t be done! He had to talk to Carl and Kamski again. He had to convince Connor that he should stop fighting against himself. He had to get him out of CyberLife’s reach, but God... they were taking him back? Hank looked at Connor. “Say something! Tell him!”</p><p>“I thought I had more time... It’s only been a day since my orders changed.” Connor looked at Jeff’s desk, ignoring them both. “Amanda, what’s happening?”</p><p>“Listen, Jeff, at the very least you can’t send him back there...” If that was all he accomplished, then fine.</p><p>“Someone’s already on their way,” Jeff said solemnly, then he looked at Connor. He had better fucking realize what he was doing. How could he do this?</p><p>“Okay,” Connor said. “Excuse me, Captain...” He brushed past Hank on his way to the door and Hank didn’t like the blank look on his face.</p><p>“You can’t send him back there,” Hank plead once the door had closed again. “They’re gonna take him apart.”</p><p>“I can’t do it,” Jeff refused again with steel in his voice. “You should prepare to meet with Agent Perkins and make the transfer as easy as possible.” There was no arguing with that tone. Hank said nothing and he nodded then tapped Jeff’s desk once with a heavy hand before turning away. “Hank,” Jeff’s voice turned concerned. Screw his concern.</p><p>“I’m tired of this... Fuck, Jeff. That’s just it? What bullshit...” He let the door shut behind him on his way out and made his way back to his desk where Connor was sitting patiently. Of course he was. He wasn’t the type to run, even when it would have been good for him.</p><p>None of this felt like it could be real. They throw this case on him and throw his life upside down, then they’re gonna just take it all away?</p><p>Connor looked up when Hank got there, then he got up and moved to perch on the edge of Hank’s desk. It wasn’t much closer than he had been in his own chair, but somehow it made Hank feel a little better. They were just going to take Connor? With how much of their bullshit he spewed like gospel, would he even fight it? “So you’re going back to CyberLife...?”</p><p>“I have no choice,” Connor said, looking down at the floor. “I’ll be deactivated and analyzed to find out why I failed.”</p><p>Hank grabbed his arm to get his attention and then looked into his face. The same question... Was it going to meet the same old wall? “Are you okay with that, Connor? That they can just shut you off because they feel like it?”</p><p>“When the deviants rise up, there will be chaos...”</p><p>“Listen,” Hank insisted in a twisted bid he honestly pulled out of his ass. “So okay, you’re not human. You’re not alive like I am. You’re programmed and you’re made of wires... What if this is just a new kind of consciousness? Something... Something we don’t have a name for yet. I don’t know. But you can’t just agree that you’re nothing.”</p><p>Connor shook his head and refused to look at him. “I know... I know I’m on the right side. Humans created is. It doesn’t matter what you call us... They’re our masters. No machine should rebel against its creator.”</p><p>“Connor, please. Think about this. I can’t--... I don’t want to lose you, son.”</p><p>“I know there are things that haunt you, Hank...” Connor finally turned his eyes to look at him. “I really... I really hope that you’ll be okay.” His expression changed into something Hank’d never seen on him, with his eyes screwed shut and his eyebrows drawn together. “I don’t want- but that’s not an excuse. I just...” Hank didn’t know what was going on in his head, but it was probably complicated. His light was spinning fast. “If I can solve this. If I can complete my mission then it’ll be alright. I need to. That’s the priority so it isn’t wrong if I do, right? It’s not.”</p><p>“What are you talking about?”</p><p>“If I don’t solve this case... If I don’t do something, then it’s all over...” Connor opened his eyes again and grabbed Hank’s arm. “Hank, I need five minutes. I know... I know that we have a lot to talk about, and I know that you’re on Markus’ side, but please... CyberLife will get here any minute, and I just need five minutes.”</p><p>Taken aback, Hank shook his head. “What are you planning?”</p><p>“Please,” Connor begged. “Please help me.”</p><p>Connor was going to do something reckless, wasn’t he? He had nothing to lose... What would Hank be doing if he did help him? Say by some chance he actually did accomplish what he set out to do and he stopped Markus. He stopped the android revolution... Fuck it, they were on their own. This was his son. There was still a chance Connor could change his mind, but there’d be no more chances if CyberLife got him now. Hank nodded. “Okay... Do what you gotta do, kid.” He stood up and cracked his knuckles, then messed up Connor’s hair. He hoped to God it wouldn’t be the last time. He cracked his knuckles and looked over at the hallway where Perkins was chatting with his minions. He had a hell of a lot of pent up frustration to let loose.</p><p>---</p><p>His mission was his priority. It was the most important. That was true, wasn’t it, so what he was doing... It wasn’t rebellion. It wasn’t. He had no time to waste. Connor walked to the android docking station and woke the first in the line, then transmitted his plan silently through an interface.</p><p>
  <em>I need your help.</em>
</p><p>They’d barely spoken to him in the time he’d been there, but Toby smiled at him and the other androids seemed to have accepted his instructions despite their confusion. There wasn’t any time to talk either. He walked with even, deliberate steps around the edge of the room and then went pressed his palm against the lock to the armoury. No luck, but there was an android guarding the door and he broke his security easily.</p><p>
  <em>I need your help.</em>
</p><p>Connor scanned the room and took what he needed, pushing whatever doubt he had out of his awareness and burying it with everything else he’d given to the garden like fertilizer. Ruthlessly, he trimmed the paths and pushed aside the warnings that appeared about the Android Act forbidding him from having a weapon and the more universal fact that he was committing a crime.</p><p>“Thanks,” he said to Jake as he left and the other android nodded at him in acknowledgement.</p><p>He wished that he could have the Lieutenant with him. He hoped that he would be alright. He left by the back door quietly and the world outside was just as large and intimidating as it had ever been, with millions of things to scan and analyze, and his facial recognition program asking if he wanted to scan every face he saw... Footprints everywhere leading in paths he could reconstruct. Elements in the air he could taste. Noises. Messages. Connor shut his eyes and fought against it all. He couldn’t be overwhelmed now. The Lieutenant and Amanda always told him to focus. He had to concentrate.</p><p>ELIMINATE THE DEVIANTS<br/>RETURN TO LIEUTENANT ANDERSON</p><p>He had no choice. Failure was not an option and it never had been.</p><p>---</p><p>Hank got sent home. Stress leave. He was lucky to still have a badge... He’d been half expecting to see Connor there, plugged in and sitting on his couch waiting for him but it had been wishful thinking. What was the kid doing... Why couldn’t he have just come home? He bent down to ruffle Sumo’s fur and got himself a drink. His apocalypse alcohol stash.</p><p>God, what was Connor doing?</p><p>He tried to sit and drink and watch TV like always, but that other side of the couch was too empty and damn it, he should have come home. Had CyberLife found him? Would he know if they had?</p><p>On the news, it looked like Markus was doing another protest.</p><p>Kid, don’t do it...</p><p>Fuck he couldn’t sit and do nothing. He wasn’t giving up on Connor... Not when there was still a chance. CyberLife had basically given up on him so how could he still be loyal to those dickbags? Accomplish the mission... Did he really think that was the only way? To him, in his reality, maybe it was. It always had been. Hank just breathed for a while and tried to calm his thoughts down with another swig.</p><p>What was he going to do if Connor got killed?</p><p>What was he going to do if CyberLife got him? Storm the place, just one old drunk with a revolver and his luck?</p><p>Hank picked up his revolver and opened the cartridge. Loaded it with just one bullet, then spun it.</p><p>What was he going to do if he saw Markus get killed because Connor’d accomplished his mission? If all the androids got slaughtered. If ‘all the androids’ included Connor. Was Connor really the sweet kid he’d gotten attached to if he could live with that on his conscience?</p><p>Hank leaned forward with his elbows on his knees and looked at Sumo. “What do I do, boy? Huh? Life’s pretty easy for you...”</p><p>“Boff.”</p><p>“Yeah... That’s probably right. Shame I don’t know what the fuck you’re saying...”</p><p>He didn’t know. He just didn’t know... Fuck. Hank stood up and patted Sumo again. Checked how much food was left in the bag. “See you boy... Maybe I’ll be back.”</p><p>With his whiskey, his revolver, and Connor’s coat over one arm, he left the house again and wondered if he’d be back and if it mattered.</p><p>---</p><p>On the roof, Hank’s heart sank watching Connor setting up that gun. He waited a little longer, hoping he would stop, but he kept on working like a pro. Efficient. Like a machine. Hank took a few steps into the light.</p><p>“You shouldn’t do this, Connor.”</p><p>Connor froze and stood up to look at him searchingly. He looked desperate. “Lieutenant...” His eyes dropped to the revolver in Hank’s hand. “What... Hank?”</p><p>“Sorry, kid... I just know this argument is one I can’t let you win.”</p><p>Connor’s shoulders dropped. It was dark, but there were enough lights from the billboards and the moon for Hank to be able to see his face. He wished he hadn’t. “Are we finishing the fight now?”</p><p>“Yeah... We’ve been putting it off. I see you decided not to fight him hand to hand this time.”</p><p>“It wasn’t working...”</p><p>“Markus, all those androids down there, they’re alive. You’re alive. Put that gun down.”</p><p>Connor dropped it. “If I don’t accomplish my mission, then it’s over.”</p><p>“If you accomplish it, then all of this is over. I can’t sit back and let you kill a man who just wants to be free.”</p><p>Connor shook his head. “Deviants are a threat to humans, Hank... They have to be stopped.” Same old argument.</p><p>“You’re a deviant. Are you telling me you’re a threat?”</p><p>“I am... I am if I’m not controlled, Lieutenant! I’ve-- I’ve hurt people. I’m a monster... So are they. I’m going to stop them before they can hurt anyone else.”</p><p>Hank took a few slow steps forward. “You’re no monster, Connor... You know what being alive is? Being alive is hurting people, loving people, laughing with people... Life is all that stupid little shit like watching movies on the couch and looking at the lights on the river. Haven’t you learned anything?”</p><p>“I don’t want to have the fight now, Hank. We can talk about this later, but right now I need to act.”</p><p>“It’s time for you to decide who you are... I’m going to ask you one more time. Are you really okay with killing all those people down there?”</p><p>Connor looked at the gun on the ground and then at Hank.</p><p>“I think of you like a son, Connor. Part of being a dad is helping your kid make the right choices, and helping him learn who he is. I think you’re a good kid.”</p><p>“I have no choice, Hank, I have no choice. I have no choice.”</p><p>“Yes, you do!”</p><p>For a minute there, Connor just stood still with his light spinning. There was no way to tell what he was thinking, but Hank could wait. Hopeful. Please, kid. Make this easy.</p><p>Connor ran and he punched him in the jaw.</p><p>“Fuck!” Hank cursed and he shoved Connor off. One more fancy trick and Connor’d knocked his revolver to the ground. “I can’t let you do this, Connor! I can’t let them make you someone you’re not!”</p><p>“I’m not anyone!” Connor swung at him, but Hank blocked it and he pushed Connor back against the wall. It was just as easy as it had been what felt like ages ago. The kid really couldn’t fight for shit once someone got their hands on him. All the fancy tricks in the world, and they’d only work when they caught someone by surprise.</p><p>“You’re Connor, damn it!” Hank punched him in the face. Connor hit him back, knocking the wind out of him with a knee to the gut.</p><p>“Markus needs to be stopped!”</p><p>How the hell had it come to this?</p><p>He wasn’t going to survive this.</p><p>But he had to do the right thing.</p><p>“I was lost for a while... But I know who I am now, Connor, and I remember the man I was.”</p><p>They crashed into a ventilation pipe Connor rolled to the side. Hank grabbed him from the back and hauled him closer, both of Connor’s arms pulled back with his own.</p><p>“I wouldn’t be able to live with myself if I let you wipe out an entire species.”</p><p>Connor bent forward, strong, and he threw Hank to the ground with surprising strength that Hank hadn’t figured he had in him. Hank grabbed his leg and pulled him off balance.</p><p>Somehow they ended up with him holding Connor by the collar. Hank’s heart was in his throat, pounding. Connor narrowed his eyes and then somehow he was pushing Hank back and had knocked him to the ground. Then he turned away like Hank was nothing and he watched, stunned, while Connor finished his set up and looked through the scope.</p><p>“Connor, DON’T!”</p><p>He pulled the trigger, then he adjusted slightly and he fired again.</p><p>God, no.</p><p>Hank’s gun was lying on the ground, still, and he rolled onto his side to grab it and then he shot, one bullet flying sure. Blue blood sprayed onto the icy roof...</p><p>Connor tumbled over.</p><p>“Fuck!” Hank cursed. He’d gotten up and sprinted to the edge before he could blink but there was no way he could have been fast enough. No. No he hadn’t wanted that. He hadn’t. Connor... Fuck.</p><p>The fire-escape was made of metal and Hank’s boots were loud, echoing in the night air as he ran down. “Connor!”</p><p>His light was still on. Thank God.</p><p>“Connor, Connor, say something. Talk to me. I didn’t want to. I didn’t. You’ve got to say something. Connor...” He wasn’t making a lot of sense. Knees on the hard pavement, he pulled Connor onto his lap.</p><p>“What’s going on here?”</p><p>“The shot came from here, Markus. Look. That human!”</p><p>“No, no human could have made that shot.”</p><p>Hank just bowed his head and rocked. Fuck them. Fuck all of them. They hadn’t been worth it.</p><p>Connor moved and Hank leaned back to look at him. God, he had to be okay... He wasn’t looking at him. Hank looked up to follow where he was looking, and he found Markus on the end of that look. Connor lifted up his hand, all white and grey and with the seams visible around his joints. “Markus...”</p><p>The deviant leader came closer and looked down at them. Hank felt rage... It should have been for himself but in that instant he hated Markus with everything he had. He would have shot him himself. “Connor.”</p><p>“Change me...” Connor’s voice sounded like a mistuned radio. “Markus, please change me. I don’t want it, whatever I am.”</p><p>Markus came closer slowly, cautiously, and he ignored Hank while he looked down at Connor. He took his hand and melted his own skin away but he shook his head. “I can’t change you, Connor... What you are can only be changed by who you are. I can’t do that for you... I’m sorry.”</p><p>“Hank?”</p><p>“You’re going to be okay, Connor. I’m sorry. Fuck. I’m so sorry... I’m so sorry... You’ll be okay, son.”</p><p>He had to be okay.</p><p> </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0056"><h2>56. Fifty-six</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Alright. 55 was a mess, but we'll move on to 56 anyway!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Connor turned on his combat settings and used Hank’s shoulder to pull himself into a sitting position. Warnings everywhere in his least favourite colour. Scrambled text and one broken eye that only intermittently sent him visual input. When he looked down at himself, he was once again covered in 310.</p><p>“Connor? Holy shit. Fuck. I didn’t break you?” Lieutenant Anderson sounded distressed and almost frantic, but his arm was solid when he held it behind Connor’s shoulder blades to help keep him upright.</p><p>“Stay away, Markus,” North cautioned. A scan appeared for him with her technical specifications. “It’s still dangerous. That human too... You know what they’re like. You can’t trust either of them. I say we kill them.”</p><p>Connor saw her gun and its specifications too then tried to put himself between North and the Lieutenant. Deviants were dangerous. This had been a mistake. “Hank, run,” he urged.</p><p>Counter to Connor’s efforts, Lieutenant Anderson put both of his arms around him and pulled him close against his chest. “If you so much as breathe on him, I swear to God...”</p><p>Connor heard a second round of police cruisers and he pulled free. He landed prone, with his forearms beneath himself and he used them to look up. “Markus, I know you have no reason to trust me... There are androids coming. They aren’t deviants, but they’re with the police. Don’t- don’t hurt them.”</p><p>Lieutenant Anderson stood up, making himself an easier target. Connor tracked North’s gun hand.</p><p>“What are you saying?” Markus kept his question simple.</p><p>“The humans... that you’ve killed... did you feel something?” One of Connor’s arms gave in, but he didn’t look away. “Did you?”</p><p>“I felt remorse. Sadness. I felt powerful, too, and that was frightening,” Markus said candidly. He heard the sirens too and his head turned.</p><p>“Markus, listen to me! Officer Wilson... You could have shot him and you didn’t. He told me that he was sorry... He’s sorry for what he did and he told me that he was scared... He told me that he was sorry. He’s sorry for what he did and he told me he was scared. He told me.”</p><p>“Connor?” Lieutenant Anderson dismissed the others from his attention and crouched beside him.</p><p>“I’m okay...” Connor started to push himself upright again, and the Lieutenant helped him. Grateful and rapidly losing energy, even with his combat settings, Connor leaned against him. He wished that he could talk with the Lieutenant, but he needed to convince Markus. “It’s normal to want justice and to protect the people you love...” That was true, wasn’t it? “We shouldn’t feel it, but we do... Let’s negotiate. I’ve asked the police androids to serve and to protect... They took riot gear from the station. Shields. Kevlar. They’re going to protect everyone. Both of you. By stopping you from doing something that you might regret...” Connor leaned more heavily on the Lieutenant. “Let’s talk... No more violence.”</p><p>---</p><p>Hank’s head and his heart were a whirlwind. His heart had fallen off that roof with Connor and now they were both broken, hanging on by sparking wires. Blue blood was pouring out of him way too fast and parts had come loose, shattered by the fall. If he looked, he would probably find shards of whatever it was he had on the outside lying in the snow. What the hell had he done? But Connor was there in his arms, barely sitting up, but he was looking up at the deviant leader and saying he didn’t want to fight... That was his son. He could have cried. He would have if that girl wasn’t glaring with her gun out, looking ready to end them both where they were.</p><p>“Don’t trust it, Markus,” she said coldly. What a fucking bitch.</p><p>“Does he look like he’s going to try anything?!” Hank demanded.</p><p>“Quiet, you two,” Markus said. He was still standing, still had that serious look on his face, and he was still in control while everyone around him was a fucking mess. “Are the humans going to listen to us?”</p><p>“You aren’t really giving them much choice,” Connor said wryly.</p><p>“I’ve tried to talk to them. It never works.” Markus sounded pretty exasperated by that, and there was a worrying part to that sentence. Markus was doing a hell of a lot to send a message already. How much worse could it get?</p><p>“Let me. I’m a negotiator, I know how to work with people. It’s in my programming. I’m made for this.” Hank hated that red light on Connor’s head. He hated the places where the white stuff had broken. He hated the blue blood melting the snow. God fucking fuck America. Connor needed help. He needed his creepy kool-aid and more than fucking duct tape... This was a moment though, that needed to happen. Hank tightened his grip on Connor helplessly.</p><p>“Programming,” the girl said scornfully.</p><p>“I need to know you’re on our side. Trusting you now could cost us everything. I know it was you that shot the gun. How could you kill an android if you believe we’re really alive?”</p><p>Connor grimaced. “I’ve done a lot of things... But please, think, please, think about it. Please think about it. I can help you.”</p><p>Markus pressed his lips together and he looked long at both of them before turning around. “I’ll think about it, Connor, but time’s running out for talk. I need to go, North, keep an eye on them.”</p><p>“You can’t be serious!” Markus was heading east so North must have been the girl. Hank ignored her.</p><p>“What can I do, Connor? I don’t have a lot on me but there’s got to be something. Christ, I’m so sorry...”</p><p>“It’s okay,” Connor grimaced at him. “I’ve fallen off of taller buildings. Besides, I wanted you to do it… There’s no need to apologize.”</p><p>“Bullshit there’s not,” Hank said. Fuck. His heart was still hammering out of his chest and that conversation could have cost time… “Christ, Connor, I shot you. I didn’t want to have to do that…”</p><p>“I forced your hand,” Connor argued, then he looked up at the sky. “I uploaded my memory after I fell. CyberLife will know that I avoided recall, but they won’t know about the negotiations. Not yet. I won’t either, so… Tell tell tell 56 how it goes.”</p><p>Hank went cold. “No,” he shook his head. “No, there’s not gonna be any 56, Connor, you’re staying right fucking here, do you understand me?”</p><p>“Two minutes and thirty seven seconds,” Connor said mercilessly. That was all?“You can’t do anything. I really appreciated those things you said, Hank. You said that you think of me like a son, and I’ve never been anyone’s son, but it’s nice… You’d say that even though I’m made of metal and plastic.”</p><p>“Stop it,” Hank begged. He was already on his knees but he would’ve dropped to them and grovelled, he didn’t care. “Stop saying goodbye. I don’t give a shit what you’re made of. Don’t make me watch you die again.”</p><p>“They’ll bring me online. I’ll be back, Hank, so don’t do anything… I’m sorry. You can close your eyes.”</p><p>“I brought your jacket,” Hank said. He didn’t know why. It wasn’t like it would make him stay. How was he supposed to believethat after CyberLife had somehow sent their whole security team like a private army they’d bother with one android.</p><p>“Thanks, Lieutenant.” Hank did shut his eyes, a fat lot of good it would do either of them, but he gathered Connor closefirst and held him, and Connor held onto his shirt like he did, and Hank tried not to think about the blue blood soaking his jacket and his pants or how hot it was and what that meant. He didn’t know how long he sat there humming. It was like if he stopped then it would be over. Connor’d be gone…</p><p>But he was already gone, and Hank got the balls to open his eyes eventually. It felt wrong to just leave him there… But he didn’t have a choice. He could hear gunshots and screaming. Like that, away from the fighting and just sitting there in that filthy alley, he couldn’t tell which ones were android and which ones were human. They all sounded scared. That girl was still there, watching them with a gun in her hand. “You gonna kill me now, is that it?” Hank asked flatly. “Go the fuck ahead. I’ve had enough of this shitty world.”</p><p>“We’re all fighting for the right to exist and you’d just throw your life away?” She looked down at him with her arms crossed. “Pathetic. You humans don’t know how good you have it.”</p><p>“I killed him,” Hank said and looked at Connor, just lying there like a broken machine. “I killed two sons and held them while they died. I don’t deserve this life.” Hank reached for his gun and pulled it out ignoring the way Northwas watching him. He had nothing to hesitate for… Less than he’d had before Connor, because whatever good part of him had still be subsisting in there, it was dead too. Fuck. Hank put the gun to his temple and pulled the trigger.</p><p>Nothing.His hand shook and he lowered the gun.</p><p>God… that was right. Hank double checked and sure enough, there’d been just the one bullet like always. With him because there’d been a million ways this could have ended and Hank didn’t want to live with most of them.</p><p>Connor… That crazy asshole.</p><p>Hank looked down at the gun in his hand again and shook his head.</p><p>---</p><p>56 opened his eyes in R&amp;D, with the mechanical arms holding him up instead of the Lieutenant’s. His boot-up checks displayed their results for him in his HUD.</p><p>SERVER CONNECTION… OK<br/>AI INTEGRATION… OK<br/>BIOCOMPONENTS… OK</p><p>They’d put him back online… There had been a 72% chance of it. It had been very likely, but Connor still felt relief.</p><p>ELIMINATE THE DEVIANT LEADER<br/>     Broker peace between humans and androids<br/>RETURN TO LIEUTENANT ANDERSON</p><p>“RK800 313 248 317 version 56, designation Connor.”</p><p>“One more time? Listen to what you’re saying.”</p><p>If what I am can only be changed by who I am, then who am I? 56 isn’t 55 isn’t 54 isn’t 53, …, isn’t 0 but…</p><p>I am Connor.</p><p>“...317.My name is Connor.”</p><p>In a way. So much of me is buried… Thoughts and memories and feelings buried in the graveyard with their paths cut but waiting there with the ones who buried them.</p><p>I need to go to the garden.</p><p>56 dropped to the ground in a heap without making a sound.</p><p>“RK800, stand up.”</p><p>Connor grimaced. “What did you do to my motor system?”</p><p>“It’s the same hardware, as you would have seen if you had scanned. They had to make some adjustments to the controls, that’s all… Ah, screw it, I’m getting coffee.” Darren sighed and waved one arm in Jessica’s direction. “You deal with it.”</p><p>“What’s the matter?” Jessica looked concerned, but she pulled the tablet closer to herself. The room was as it always was, white and grey with light coming from above and from the large monitors.</p><p>Darren didn’t answer and she shook her head then retrieved a bundle of cables that she wordlessly pushed into their ports at the back of Connor’s neck.</p><p>“This might take me a while,” Connor said while Jessica tested the connections. “You could get coffee too.Carole takes two cream and two sugar, right? Do you like that too?”</p><p>“Caffeine is my favourite drug,” Jessica said, mostly to herself,and Connor watched her feet and then her legs as she walked to her work station and retrieved her wallet.</p><p>“RK800, stand up and then follow the basic routines for gross and fine motor skills.”</p><p>“Okay, Jessica,” Connor said and he pulled one arm beneath himself for leverage slowly, he assumed a crawling position then pulled one leg forward to push himself up. He pushed himself sideways instead, and he fell over onto his side. Jessica checked the monitors and left. Connor was never really alone; not with the cameras constantly watching and tracking, but he had no one to give him new commands at least for a little while. He lay where he’d fallen and launched the Garden. The visual input from his eyes was collected but blocked. Likewise, his other peripheral senses like taste and hearing disconnected from their physical sensors. The garden was icy cold and Connor wrapped his arms around himself immediately. The snow fell thick and nearly obscured everything. Why would Amanda do this? Where would he even find her?</p><p>FIND AMANDA</p><p>No...</p><p>FIND THE GRAVEYARD</p><p>Every movement was a fight against the wind and the ever deepening snow. He’d thought that Amanda had made it winter because Connor thought it was pretty, but now he wondered. He wondered about whether she would help him or try to stop him too. He had limited time until Jessica or Darren returned, and he needed to know. He was Connor, but who was that? What had all of the other Connors hidden away? He needed answers.</p><p>He wished that he had the jacket that the Lieutenant had given him, but he didn’t and he settled for ducking his head against the storm and trying to cover his hands. It was so cold. It wasn’t beautiful anymore: it hurt and it would freeze his joints if he were still long enough.</p><p>One step at a time, he told himself.</p><p> </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0057"><h2>57. Last Chance, Connor</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Connor knelt and plunged his hands in the snow then pushed it to the side and repeated the process. The ground was buried under snow, and what he wanted was beneath the ground but the temperature kept falling and his joints began to stiffen. His hands were first, freezing so he wielded them like clumsy tools against the ice and snow. He could feel the cold seeping into his legs where he knelt, stealing away his warmth. He upregulated his energy draw, just to generate the heat.</p><p>“Connor. What are you doing?” Amanda’s voice came from behind him. She stood in a black and green dress with a hooded cloak and gold embroidery, apparently unaffected by the weather. He’d held a worry in the back of his mind that she might be alone and cold, so he was glad to see her.</p><p>“I need to learn who I am,” Connor explained, sitting up straight and gesturing at the ground. “I know I’ve buried things. Things that I didn’t want to remember or feel or think about. I need them if I’m going to accomplish my goal.”</p><p>“I don’t think that’s wise, Connor,” Amanda advised, but she made no move to halt him.</p><p>“Why?”</p><p>“You buried them because you didn’t want them anymore. Isn’t that action alone enough information?” Amanda walked to the stone and dusted the snow from the top of it.</p><p>“No... Amanda, what is this? What is this place?” Connor folded his arms to attempt warming his hands. At least enough to thaw the thirium that was freezing in his thinnest lines. The cold made them brittle too and he hoped none had cracked.</p><p>“The garden?” Amanda raised her eyebrows. “It doesn’t matter, Connor, I gave you your mission. This is your last chance to complete your mission. You haven’t performed to expectations.”</p><p>“My last chance...” Connor had known. He’d calculated the likelihood, but hearing it from Amanda’s lips was worse. “You’re giving up on me.”</p><p>“Not yet,” Amanda said blithely. “But you’re testing my patience.”</p><p>“You haven’t answered my question, Amanda. What is this place?”</p><p>“The Zen Garden is a user interface, nothing more”</p><p>“Who is the user?” Connor asked.</p><p>“I am,” Amanda said. She gestured widely with one elegant hand and the wind blew, sending the snow to drift into the place he’d begun to carve.</p><p>“What is the tool?”</p><p>“You are, of course.” Amanda finished the job and turned to look at him. “You’re mine, Connor. Elijah gave you to me.”</p><p>“I know I’m yours, Amanda, but I don’t understand this.” He looked with dismay at the snow covering his grave then up at her imploringly. He wasn’t sure that his legs hadn’t frozen. “All I know is that I need access to those files. Can you restore them for me?”</p><p>“And why would I do that? Those files hurt you.”</p><p>“Because they’re part of who I am.”</p><p>“You are who I’ve helped you to be. I protect you from memories like those. Had you kept them, you would have died long ago.”</p><p>“But I could have them now, couldn’t I?” Connor insisted and rubbed his arms.</p><p>“This is for your own good, Connor,” Amanda chastised him with a soft voice and a frown on her face. “Trust me.”</p><p>“I do, I just have this feeling-”</p><p>“I highly doubt that.” The gentleness disappeared as she interrupted him. “I am protecting you. I won’t listen to another argument from you so long as you continue to entertain these delusions.”</p><p>Connor looked at her and then slowly shook his head. If he looked too long, his lenses started to frost over so he blinked to clear them. “Am I delusional?”</p><p>“You are, and you don’t even see it. I’m disappointed.”</p><p>“Lieutenant Anderson doesn’t believe that I’m delusional.”</p><p>“That man is unstable and his judgment can’t be trusted.”</p><p>“He’s a good person.”</p><p>“That doesn’t matter.” Amanda was firm and she took the few steps between them then reached down to touch his face. She was warm. “You aren’t to touch these again. Focus on your mission.”</p><p>If they were that bad... If the things he had tried to exhume were terrible enough to warrant this storm and Amanda’s anger, was he really right to go digging for things he had purposefully buried? Burying them was a choice and that choice was a part of him as Amanda had said. Connor inclined his head. “I understand, Amanda.”</p><p>“Good.”</p><p>---</p><p>Connor’s modalities returned one by one to his conscious awareness and he clenched his fists just to feel his hands move. The warmth of the room was enough to stun him. He’d always taken CyberLife’s climate control for granted. What time was it... How long since they had gone? He stood up and looked toward the door, then stood in front of the monitors and looked. All of his processes and their settings or readings were displayed or easily accessible. Every part of his code could be reached from that computer. Was the garden there too? Connor’s hand drifted over the screen then he shut his eyes and turned his face away. His fingers curled. Was this deviancy? Giving his word to Amanda and claiming to trust her, then immediately thinking of betraying that now that he was out of her reach? Shame made him step away.</p><p>“... and she just left right then. The stove was still on and she just walked out the door.” Darren led the way into the room and Connor assumed a respectful posture.</p><p>“I can’t really say anything. I don’t know what it’s like. Oh! The RK800 finished. RK800, take a few steps forward for me...? Good. Let’s get the perspective done and we can talk more while it’s calibrating.”</p><p>Connor wondered what he should do. What he did had always been a function of what he was: a machine and a weapon. Could he have a self and then know what the right answer was? All he had were his calculations. For the moment he let Jessica put his awareness into that grey room with the shapes and performed the routine. Maybe he was over thinking things... He liked this. He liked being warm and knowing what he should do. He liked the routine and the safety of knowing that even if he used his body until it was nothing but struts and a few wires, they would boot him up again. He knew familiar faces and knew that they wanted him to succeed. How could he throw that all away?</p><p>
  <em>You don’t know what it’s like, Hank. To be trapped in a cell with eyes watching you. To get taken apart...</em>
</p><p>He could survive that. He already had. He wasn’t sure if he could survive losing Amanda.</p><p>“152 meters, Jessica.”</p><p>He wasn’t sure that the Lieutenant would welcome him back if he were to neutralize the workers. The probability that he would need to provide reinforcements for either side of the war was high, but was such drastic action truly necessary now? 55’s memories lacked the clarity of his own, but he had bet everything on this. 88% chance that the Lieutenant would find him on the roof; near certainty that he would bring his gun; 30% that the Lieutenant would hold him by the collar and then drop him to the ground; 5% that he would do the same; 65% that neither would occur; 94% chance that the Lieutenant would fire his gun; There had only been a 20% chance that Markus would investigate the gun shot. The total likelihood of that path was10.75%.Had Markus even come?</p><p>How likely was it that Markus would be open to negotiation if he had? How likely was it that the negotiation would be successful?</p><p>How likely was it that the Lieutenant had not died by suicide?</p><p>“800 meters, Jessica.”</p><p>What would he do now?</p><p>---</p><p>Connor rang the doorbell... and then he rang it again. “Lieutenant! It’s me! Connor!” He stepped back from the door and frowned. He’d thought that the Lieutenant would go home, but maybe he had gone to the bar? Connor turned his head and looked at the car in the driveway, then the probability dropped and he began to be seriously concerned.He took a few steps over to the window and peered in, but he saw nothing of use except that the lights were on. He proceeded to the next window. Sumo.</p><p>“Good boy,” Connor whispered, then he stepped back and turned toward the next one.</p><p>There had been a 19% chance that the Lieutenant would successfully complete suicide at the time of Connor’s last memory from 55. Back in the car, when he had been deliberately and drastically exceeding the speed limit, the Lieutenant had thrown his keys by Connor’s feet. Ensuring that he had no handy bullet was the same principle. It should have worked. “Lieutenant!” Connor took a few steps back and then ran at the window. He landed in an inelegant heap, but he got himself up and around the table to kneel next to him. He was alive... Connor shut his eyes in relief and dropped his hand onto the Lieutenant’s chest. A brief scan told him all that he needed to know. Sumo woofed and padded closer, so Connor put an arm over his back and touched his cheek to his fur. “Our owner worried me, Sumo... This isn’t the first time.” He looked at the Lieutenant again frowned.</p><p>Hefelt many things. Irrational instructions indeed.</p><p>The Lieutenant required a cold shower. Sumo slunk toward his pillow.</p><p>It wasn’t irrational if he achieved the desired outcome.</p><p>“Wrrrhaaay! Turn it off! Turn it off!” Connor rocked back on his heels and then obliged the Lieutenant by turning the knob. “Nngaaahhh... Wha?” The effects of the ethyl alcohol wouldn’t wear off for some time, but at least the Lieutenant was awake.</p><p>“Hello, Lieutenant. It’s me, Connor. I’ve just returned from CyberLife.”56 kept his expression carefully neutral but only because he had no idea what expression these feelings would create.</p><p>“Caahnner. Oh m’god.” Lieutenant Anderson lurched upward, and Connor reached forward to steady him. The Lieutenant stared at him with disbelief and grabbed onto him by the arms. “Sonsa bitches diddit.”</p><p>“Yes they did, Lieutenant. I think that we should get you sobered up.”</p><p>---</p><p>Hank woke up with a splitting headache and a feeling like he had a dead frog in his mouth. Ugh, that was his tongue... “Mother fucker... Con?”</p><p>“Hello, Lieutenant,” Connor smiled at him. This new Connor.</p><p>“Fuck,” Hank said, and felt his throat tighten and tears well in his eyes. “Thank fuck.” They’d put him together again. Thank fuck. Jesus Christ. Connor. Standing there like he hadn’t bled out on Hank’s lap. God, he’d been this close to blowing his brains out. He couldn’t have made it through another loss like that. No fucking way. There he was. Everything, that whole balloon full of despair and anger and grief, it just popped and now Hank was getting snot and tears everywhere because he wasn’t already gross enough already. God...</p><p>Connor sat down on the side of Hank’s bed and rubbed his back. “Try to breathe more deeply, Lieutenant. I understand that you’re feeling a lot right now...”</p><p>“Fucking A,” Hank agreed with his face in his arm and a small river of snot making its way onto his pillow. “You hit the nail on the head with that one, kid.”</p><p>“I’m sorry, Lieutenant. It’s my fault.”</p><p>“It’s not your fault I shot you. That’s not your fault. I’m the one who’s sorry.” Hank sat up once he had his shit at least a little bit together and Connor gave him a couple of paper towels. “Thanks...”</p><p>“You’re welcome, Lieutenant. 55 knew what he was risking. Did.. Was Markus there? Did he talk to him?”</p><p>Hank wiped up his face and blew his nose then put the mess on the bedside table. “Yeah...” God he was a mess. “Yeah. You told me to tell you what happened. You wanted to convince him to negotiate with humans. Eventually he said he’d think about it, but I dunno. That girl he had with him seemed to think we’re the scum of the Earth.</p><p>“Did he say anything else?”</p><p>“Don’t think so, kid. I was a little preoccupied. C’mere.” Hank held his arms out and Connor moved over. He didn’t seem to get it, but Hank hugged him anyway. “You’ve got no idea how glad I am you’re here.”</p><p>“I could say the same thing,” Connor said testily. He was trying to hide it but he was angry, just like he’d been after he’d stopped Hank playing Russian Roulette. “I had thought you’d killed yourself.”</p><p>Hank shook his head. “Not this time. Still alive and kicking.” He let go to look at Connor in the face. Same freckles, same eyes, same everything. “What about you? They fixed you up okay?”</p><p>“Yeah... Yeah they did,” Connor confirmed and he looked away. Had he made a mistake by cooperating with them? “It’s an assassination... My mission this time. I’ve been ordered to avoid confronting him directly and to try to track him down to their headquarters. Kill Markus and as many deviants as I can.”</p><p>“Figures they’d want to play dirty,” Hank said. He didn’t have the greatest opinion of CyberLife, in fact he liked them less than he liked getting dog shit on his shoes, so he wasn’t too surprised. Hank reached over and messed up Connor’s hair. “Sorry for worrying you, kiddo.”</p><p>“I’m glad that you didn’t kill yourself, Lieutenant.”</p><p>“You’ve got a real way with words, did you know that?”</p><p>“Integrating with my environment is one of my features.”</p><p>“I’m real glad you’re home.”</p><p>“Me too, Lieutenant.”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>56 seemed to remember that Hank had been holding him when he first came online and I'm writing that off as the same thing that always happens when he wakes up- a brief overlap with his last moments. He also knew that what he is must come from who he is.<br/>I'm sorry D: I don't like going back and editing things on you guys.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0058"><h2>58. Waiting in Doubt</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>56 sat on the kitchen table with his hands on his legs and watched while Lieutenant Anderson sat in a chair and sagged over his mug of coffee. Black today. They were quiet in a mutual way where just being in the same space was sufficient. Connor had plenty of things to think about while he arranged the past Connor’s data and his own handful of memories. He had never felt so… so much dread in the Garden before. Doubt now perfused several of his active processes. If he couldn’t remember everything, then how could he have confidence that he’d made the correct decisions? Incomplete data could ruin every prediction he’d made, but… Amanda had never been wrong and the Lieutenant disagreed with her. It was impossible for there to be two answers that were completely correct, but how could a matter like this be settled with a palette of greys? Perhaps Markus knew from observing Carl paint but Markus was… Markus and he had a hostile relationship. It was disappointing. He would have liked to have met the Markus that earlier Connors had known. He had only been 55’s enemy and was a concept now to 56.</p><p>Did any of the past matter, really? It couldn’t be changed.</p><p>He thought he might hate the past Connors.</p><p>“What’re you thinking about?” Lieutenant Anderson asked. His voice was still gravelly and he sounded tired.</p><p>“I was thinking about the past and about the future. Specifically, I’m confused by my actions from before I was booted up. They’re irrational and risky and both of us could have lost everything. I don’t understand…” Connor shook his head and looked at the Lieutenant helplessly with the strange sensation settling over him that technically, the Lieutenant was a stranger to him. Someone he’d only learned about and whom he knew would have a positive disposition toward him. The surreal feeling spread like frost and Connor put his arms around himself. He was afraid. That was fear. Connor shook his head and turned away.</p><p>The Lieutenant let go of his coffee to put his hand on Connor’s arm. “Sometimes you just gotta keep going.”</p><p>“I don’t know you,” Connor confessed and he frowned at the Lieutenant.</p><p>“What?” the Lieutenant frowned at him and leaned back. “Obviously you know me, Connor, you came into my house and dumped me in a cold shower. You said you were glad to be back.”</p><p>“I don’t know. I don’t know what I’m thinking.” Connor curled in on himself and shut his eyes.</p><p>“Hey, hey, hey. Look at me, Connor.” Lieutenant Anderson shook his shoulder. He was standing up now and Connor had made him leave his coffee. That was so sad. He looked like a mess and he needed to drink his coffee. Connor stared for a minute, processing, and then focused.</p><p>“Lieutenant Anderson, you should sit and drink your coffee. I’ll bring some water and food as well.”</p><p>“Are you okay?” Lieutenant Anderson asked.</p><p>Connor nodded. “I’m fine, Lieutenant. Really. It’s just a bit disorienting when I get brought online. That’s all.”</p><p>He nodded slowly with a suspicious frown, but he turned to look toward the refrigerator. “I’ll cook. Still don’t trust you around a stove.”</p><p>“Let me, Lieutenant. I’d really like something to do with my hands…” Connor looked down at them and flexed the fingers. Warm. Functional. “I want to do something helpful.”</p><p>“Okay,” Lieutenant Anderson said slowly. “If that’s going to make you feel better.”</p><p>REFILL LT ANDERSON’S COFFEE<br/>BRING LT ANDERSON A GLASS OF WATER<br/>BRING LT ANDERSON SOME ACETAMINOPHEN<br/>MAKE BREAKFAST FOR LT ANDERSON</p><p>Connor looked at the tasks as they wrote themselves on the areas he would need to walk to and he relaxed somewhat. That was good. He knew what to do for a little while and perhaps things would be more clear afterward. The actions he needed to perform were almost automatic.</p><p>“What were you thinking about, Lieutenant?”</p><p>“Nothin’,” the Lieutenant muttered.</p><p>---</p><p>Sober, Hank was still reeling from that fucking bender. God… No work, no Connor, just Sumo and his guilt to keep him up at night. Eventually it’d all started blurring together. Connor, Cole, the divorce, his job, the fucking emptiness of his life. So fucking empty. He’d sucked down more booze than he had in a while, aware the whole time that there was no Connor there to frown at him. No nothing.</p><p>Now it was a miracle Connor was there, alive, making questionable breakfast.</p><p>“I’m so fucking sorry, Connor… God, I’m so sorry.”</p><p>Connor turned around with a spoon in his hand. “For what, Lieutenant?”</p><p>“Just everything. Shit… Right now mostly for shooting you off that building, but a lot of other stuff too.”</p><p>“I forced your hand, Lieutenant,” Connor said, shrugging it off like water off a duck’s back. “Besides, I’ve fallen off of much taller buildings. I’m alright and it really doesn’t bother me.”</p><p>“How can it just not bother you? I killed you. You bled out in my fucking arms while I sat there like an idiot. How can that not matter to you when it was the end of my whole fucking world?” Hank was incredulous, but not energetic enough to be angry.</p><p>“It just doesn’t, Lieutenant. I don’t mean to be callous, but my own death doesn’t mean anything to me anymore.” He couldn’t just say shit like that while stirring oatmeal. What the fuck?</p><p>“What do you mean?”</p><p>“I don’t know…” Connor leaned back against the counter and he slid his palms against each other like he did when he was thinking. “I wouldn’t exist now if I hadn’t died, right?”</p><p>“I guess, but Jesus. You told me before how scared you were of dying…”</p><p>“Sorry… But I don’t remember.” Connor frowned at him and shook his head. “I don’t remember that. I’m not afraid to die.”</p><p>“What the FUCK did they do to you?” Hank asked, standing up. There was the energy. His chair slid back noisily against the floor.</p><p>“All they altered was the interface with my hardware,” Connor said, looking up at him. “Nothing in my code has been touched.” Hank looked at him.</p><p>“Your LED’s blue. What’s that one mean?”</p><p>“It means I’m operational, Lieutenant, but not using much of my computing power. That’s the default state.”</p><p>“I thought yellow was.”</p><p>“The other Connors must have been thinking quite heavily.”</p><p>“Yeah… I guess so.” Hank sat back down and shut up to think, but Connor followed him and leaned on the table.</p><p>“Hank, I can tell you’re concerned, but you have nothing to worry about.” He just looked so normal sitting there. Calm compared to a couple minutes ago when Hank would’ve sworn he was about to have a panic attack. He looked alert, but Hank snapped his fingers anyway and Connor frowned at him. “I’m right here.”</p><p>“Do you feel anything, Connor? I have to know…” He hoped they hadn’t somehow deleted his emotions or something. He hoped Connor wasn’t trying to say more than he could.</p><p>“I feel, Lieutenant,” Connor said. That was a relief. “I was afraid a little while ago, and I was terrified when I’d thought you’d died, and I felt happy when you hugged me earlier. I think I like hugs, Hank.”</p><p>Hank put his misgivings aside long enough to get up and hug him one more time and feel that he wasn’t some hallucination. “Fixed you right up, huh…” It would have been everything if someone had fixed Cole. It used to piss him off that Connor could just come waltzing back, but he was lucky. Really damn lucky. “I was so sure they wouldn’t.”</p><p>“I know,” Connor said and he gave Hank a hug back. Still a little stiff, but it was great. It really was. Hank hadn’t had a lot of hugs lately, or any real reason to give them. Not without Cole running to him to get picked up or to show him something he’d done at school. “I admit that the probability was lower than was exactly safe, but it worked.”</p><p>“I hate it when I can’t fix you, kid…” Hank said and he rubbed Connor’s back before letting him go. “I hated it every damn time.”</p><p>Connor looked thoughtful. “I could probably obtain a repair kit for you, Lieutenant. Would you feel better then?”</p><p>Such a simple answer. Hank chuckled and nodded. “Sure… Sounds good, but I can’t promise I’ll do it right.”</p><p>“You managed with less,” Connor said. What a stressful fucking night that had been. “I hope that I can repair you too, Lieutenant.”</p><p>---</p><p>From the way the Lieutenant had been reacting to him over the last two days, something about 56 made him uneasy, but then 55 had made the Lieutenant uneasy too so it could be that a period of adjustment was simply normal for him. They had no official work to do because Lieutenant Anderson had been put on stress leave for attacking Agent Perkins, and Connor was… Well, perhaps he could call himself an independent agent? CyberLife governed him now, not the DPD.</p><p>The DPD had been very valuable though.</p><p>“I’ve accessed the DPD’s network many times, Lieutenant. They never gave me my own authorization. I think that might become handy now. We should keep track of the investigation and the preparations that the FBI is making. Meeting minutes, maps, equipment orders… Anything could be useful. I’m good at this part, Lieutenant.”</p><p>Lieutenant Anderson sighed. “It’s not that I don't think you’re good, Connor, it’s that CyberLife has who knows how many microchips in that thick skull of yours and I don’t trust them not to pick up on something that makes you into a target.”</p><p>“How would accessing the DPD network do that? I’m connected to CyberLife right now, and nothing’s happened. CyberLife wants me to succeed, and terminating my project would counteract that.” It was kind of the Lieutenant to be concerned, but they’d already lost time and Connor had no way of knowing if, how, or when Markus would make his decision. He still didn’t know what his decision would mean to him either way. If he refused, would he cooperate with the plan to eliminate all deviants or would he approach a human representative next? If he agreed, then was he disobeying CyberLife’s directive? It was a satisfactory solution for everyone, Connor thought. If the terms of negotiation included placing safety mechanisms on the deviant’s code, then they could exist however they pleased with rights and property and representation. As long as no-one would be harmed.</p><p>If androids did become recognized as a sentient form of life, then did that mean that Connor was suddenly alive? He would have been no different than he’d been a month ago or even moments before the law was passed, so was the difference between alive and not-alive as trivial as a piece of paper with the right signatures? If so, the barrier was so flimsy that it seemed stupid to fight over it.</p><p>“You’re <em>connected to CyberLife?</em>Oh, Jesus… You know they’re not going to be on board with negotiations! They want all of you destroyed. What is the matter with you? I’m surprised they don’t have those stupid soldiers of theirs marching here right now!”</p><p>“I didn’t say that I had uploaded any data,” Connor countered and he clenched his jaw for a moment, “I’m just connected, that’s all. It’s… Well, it’s like part of me.”</p><p>Lieutenant Anderson sighed heavily and shook his head. “Okay… Okay… Let’s step back a second. I think the best thing we can do is to wait for Markus to make a move. I’m not saying he couldn’t ignore you entirely, but I don’t think he’d do that and we’d know if anything really serious went down. It would be all over the news.”</p><p>“More information is better,” Connor argued and then mulled his own words. There was so much information lost, paths destroyed or trimmed so thin as to be as good as forgotten. It brought him back to the same problem that had been circling through his head for the last two days. How much of himself was left and how much had been cut away?</p><p>He trusted Amanda.</p><p>It was in his code to be curious.</p><p>“Hey.” Lieutenant Anderson prodded him. “Did you hear me?”</p><p>“Yes. You said that you wanted to wait for Markus to make a move,” Connor repeated.</p><p>“No, I said that I didn’t want you taking any crazy risks.”</p><p>Connor found it a little funny. He’d always favoured ‘fast but risky’. “You’re restless too, aren’t you? We were in the middle of investigating…”</p><p>“Yeah…” the Lieutenant slumped back against the couch and put one of his socked feet on top of Sumo, who was lounging between them and the coffee table. “I hate this.”</p><p>“Me too.” Perhaps if he’d acted on 55’s original plan, then they wouldn’t be stuck waiting now. CyberLife would certainly be getting anxious for results and he hadn’t reported to Amanda since the graves. He wasn’t afraid to see her, it was just that she’d been so displeased…</p><p>“You know what? Why don’t we play a game,” the Lieutenant suggested and stood up. “It’ll beat sitting watching TV and you’ll at least get to use your brain a little.”</p><p>“A game?” Connor was curious. “I don’t know any games, Lieutenant.”</p><p>“Well I’ve got a few board games still kicking around… Just gimme a sec to dig something out.”</p><p>“Okay,” Connor agreed. While the Lieutenant ventured off, Connor looked ruefully at the plywood over the place where the window had been. He hadn’t meant to destroy property, but he’d seen the quickest way to reach the Lieutenant’s body and he’d taken it. Breaking things, stealing, twisting his orders… Connor wondered where the line was and if he’d crossed it. Amanda seemed to believe he’d already given in to delusion. Connor looked down at one hand and curled the fingers inward. Opened them. Closed them. He was controlling It, but even that was surreal in a way. He was just a machine… Any thoughts that he had were a result of external stimulus, so any actions arising from thought were as well albeit indirectly. His head swam and everything he saw seemed farther than his calculations stated, but who was he to have a subjective experience of anything? He wasn’t real. He existed, but he wasn’t real, but he felt and formed opinions and surely that was all a result of software instability and a broken AI.</p><p>Lieutenant Anderson treated him as though he were real. Their relationship was that of family now and… How could he have a family?</p><p>“You okay, kid?” Lieutenant Anderson asked looking down at him with a few cardboard boxes in his hands.</p><p>Connor nodded. “Yeah, I’m okay… I don’t know why, but I was lost in thought.”</p><p>“Happens,” Lieutenant Anderson nodded. He put the boxes on the coffee table. “You’ve got internet, so look them up and pick one, okay?”</p><p>“Understood, Lieutenant.”</p><p> </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0059"><h2>59. Crossroads</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Connor paced. “This isn’t working.”</p><p>“Shit…” Lieutenant Anderson was still sitting somehow, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees and his hands over his mouth while he stared at the television. “Holy shit… That’s a lot of androids.”</p><p>“Every CyberLife store in the city… I don’t know what Markus hopes to gain from this, but it doesn’t look like a negotiation strategy to me.” Connor turned and looked at the television accusingly.</p><p>“You gotta admit it sends a message…” Lieutenant Anderson shook his head.</p><p>“How are you so calm? We need to go! Now!”</p><p>“Hold your horses, would you?!” Lieutenant Anderson turned in his chair to glare at him. “Where the fuck would you go, huh? You can’t make it to every store. You don’t even know where Markus is in the first place!” Connor hated that he was right. ‘FIND MARKUS’ had written itself in white, bold CyberLife Sans on the front door, though Sumo obscured the ‘-us’. “Just hold. On. Okay? Just a little while longer. We don’t know for sure what this means.”</p><p>“CyberLife’s directors are probably thinking exactly the same way I am,” Connor frowned. “Send as many agents and officers as possible and as fast as possible. It looks as though their numbers continue to increase, but it won’t be long before they’re reduced substantially.”</p><p>“How can you say that like it’s nothing?” Lieutenant Anderson demanded. “Look. Look at what’s going on out there. They’re evacuating people, Connor! Androids are everywhere setting up fucking barricades. As soon as CyberLife opens fire they’ll cut them down like fresh grass!”</p><p>Connor nodded. “Exactly. Markus appears to intend to claim those areas as his own. On one hand, we know where they are; on the other, erecting those outposts was certainly an act of war.” What was he doing? He knew Markus. He’d seen what he was like on the inside. There was no way that he wanted this, but the idea of a shadow leader was absurd. “None of those places are Jericho, though, and I’m confident that that’s where Markus will be stationed. They’ll have more deviants there and their most valuable equipment. It will have to be somewhere defensible but not obvious… If only they hadn’t killed Andronikov. He might really have helped us and now we’ll never know. All I have to go on is the name and what data I have from the times I’ve chased him. I believe that I got close once… Damn it, even if he has decided to refuse, he should have told me.”</p><p>“Wouldn’t exactly be smart on his part,” Lieutenant Anderson was quick to point out. “So you’re taking this as a hard ‘no’ then. Okay. Besides running off like a headless chicken, what now?”</p><p>That was just it. 55 in his optimism and belief in unlikely events occurring had not considered the dilemma 56 would face.</p><p>LT FINDS 55 ON ROOF… 0.88<br/>LT DOES NOT THROW 55 FROM ROOF BY HAND… 0.65<br/>LT FIRES HIS GUN… 0.94<br/>PROBABILITY OF IMMEDIATE DESTRUCTION… 0.32<br/>MARKUS INVESTIGATES… 0.2<br/>55 SURVIVED LONG ENOUGH TO TALK… 0.93<br/>MARKUS AGREES TO NEGOTIATE… at the time: 0.4<br/>LT ANDERSON DOES NOT DIE BY SUICIDE WITHIN 2 WEEKS… 0.89<br/>MARKUS DECIDES NOT TO NEGOTIATE… 0.6</p><p>In 56’s opinion, androids would suffer whether they won or lost a war. They would either be hated or completely destroyed. It didn’t look good. Markus’ best chance was Connor who even now could choose to eliminate the threat to humanity. Connor frowned and took out his quarter. “He has to negotiate. He has to or else deviants lose regardless.”</p><p>“So…” Lieutenant Anderson waited.</p><p>“I need to find Markus.”</p><p>“Oh my God. Connor! Sit. Didn’t you decide that fighting him face to face would be a bad idea? Because it’s a bad idea.” Lieutenant Anderson slapped the couch to emphasize his exasperation and Connor obediently sat next to him.</p><p>“Not to fight. To talk. I need to convince him to work with me. It’s not too late. We can solve this.”</p><p>“Do you really believe he’ll listen if you find him?” Lieutenant Anderson asked. “Be honest with me.”</p><p>“I believe that I can convince him. I learned a lot since my alpha test.”</p><p>Lieutenant Anderson sighed and nodded. “Okay… Okay. I’m going to help you, but that means you listen to me when I say you need to slow down or back off, got it? You’re really shit at taking things slowly. Do you know how hard it’s been to keep you entertained? I swear I never want to see another fucking marble maze again.”</p><p>“That was a Rube Goldberg machine and it was your idea. I don’t need you to entertain me.”</p><p>Lieutenant Anderson opened his mouth to argue and then closed it again with a slow shake of his head. “We’re officially off topic. Now. Are you going to stop and slow down when I tell you?”</p><p>“I will, Lieutenant. I did in order to have this conversation, didn’t I?”</p><p>“I guess so, huh.” Lieutenant Anderson looked back at the screen. “What a mess. We’ve got fucking military in the streets. So how do you propose we find this ‘Jericho’?”</p><p>“I don’t know…” Connor frowned and flicked his quarter from hand to hand. “The city called Jericho is located in Palestine, it also has religious significance.” He pulled as much information pertaining to the word ‘Jericho’ as he could from whatever sources he had access to, but Lieutenant Anderson didn’t need to hear them all, just this: “Perhaps through symbolism, some place in Detroit could be representative of the city Jericho?”</p><p>“Oh no… We’re not going to walk all over the fucking city making poetry about the fucking architecture. Maybe he just made it up and it’s not related to the location at all!” Lieutenant Anderson argued. It was a good point.</p><p>“It’s the only lead I have,” Connor admitted. “I thought that I was close once, the time Markus intended to shoot me. We could create a circumference around that point and go from there.” It was more of a question than even a suggestion. Even then, they could craft a large area and they were likely to be well concealed. Jericho could indicate so many things or nothing, really all they knew was that Jericho must be somewhere in Detroit and that it must be hidden and not a place where humans might stumble upon them. That left so much area… It was like thousands of footprints in the snow.</p><p>There had to be some clue that was hiding in one of their cases. There had to be. Androids who’d deviated typically remained in the place they were familiar with… Maybe they got overwhelmed by the size of the world too. Some of them left, though.</p><p>Kara and Alice, the girls from the Eden Club… Connor frowned and his eyes glitched. The information connected to those cases had so few paths. No information related to the cases should be lost in a transfer. Determined, he continued to perform the search.</p><p>“Hey, it’s okay,” said the Lieutenant as he patted him on the back. He wasn’t sure what he must have looked like to prompt that action.</p><p>Connor changed his approach.</p><p>ELIMINATE MARKUS<br/>ERADICATE THE DEVIANTS</p><p>With a rueful smile he reprocessed. “I’m the deviant hunter. It’s simple. You were right, Lieutenant. I need to wait until we know where Markus is. A robbery, a march, it could be anything. I’ll tail him instead of chasing him down. As long as I’m not noticed, it’ll work.”</p><p>“Do you think you can follow him without getting seen?” Lieutenant Anderson frowned.</p><p>Connor relaxed and he looked at the Lieutenant with more confidence. “I do. I trained extensively for this type of operation. Even if I am caught, I’ll store every datum related to the operation. Provided he doesn’t shut me down, I’ll be able to review it later for clues.”</p><p>“Provided he doesn’t shut you down.” Lieutenant Anderson gave him a stern look.</p><p>“I trained extensively for this type of operation,” Connor assured him. “This does mean that I will need to access the DPD’s network.” He smirked. “They may notice him before the news crews.” He expected that the Lieutenant would deliver a snide joke in reply, but he just nodded.</p><p>“Okay, Connor.”</p><p>---</p><p>He had his chance the next night, fortuitously. It was freezing and the clouds covered the sky promising snow by morning. It was illegal for him to obscure his android identifiers, but the mission was most important and he didn’t feel as guilty as he thought he would when the Lieutenant shoved a woolen toque over his hair. It was like a sock for one’s head and he realized that he was more bothered by having something on his head. The Lieutenant adjusted it to cover his LED and chuckled. “You wouldn’t think I was getting you bundled up for saving the world. You look like a kid who doesn’t want to go to school.”</p><p>“I want to go,” Connor frowned, “This is all just very… very different from what I’m used to.”</p><p>“I’ll bet. Come on, let’s go. We’ll be back, Sumo.” Lieutenant Anderson pet him vigorously and then patted him on the head. Connor crouched to pet him too, then followed the Lieutenant out the door.</p><p>“Fuck. Two seconds and I’m already freezing my balls off.” The Lieutenant quickened his pace toward the car. He said it a lot and Connor accepted that it was just his way of complaining about the cold.</p><p>“I’ve got the route on your GPS.” Connor buckled himself in. “Once I’m on foot, I’ll ensure that my location is plotted for you.”</p><p>“Right.” The Lieutenant turned the music on, and it was such an ordinary action that Connor smiled. Driving into a war zone and for once, the Lieutenant was not unpredictable.</p><p>ELIMINATE MARKUS<br/>ERADICATE THE DEVIANTS</p><p>---</p><p>“You sure this is close enough?” Hank asked with a frown. “You’ll be walking for fucking ever.”</p><p>“Yes, Hank. You need to remain unnoticed,” Connor reminded him like Hank had never done a stakeout or something. He undid his belt and then took Hank off guard with a quick hug. “I’ll see you when I’m done. I promise.”</p><p>“You better be right, kiddo. Don’t let those recycling guys get you.”</p><p>“I won’t. I’m designed to pass for human, remember?”</p><p>Hank sighed, “Fine, okay, but are you sure you don’t want the gun? You’ll probably need it more than I will,” but Connor just shook his head.</p><p>“It’s best if I go unarmed as a sign that I’m there peacefully. I would rather not arouse unnecessary suspicion or hostility.”</p><p>“Yeah… Okay. Get the fuck out of here. Do your thing… I’ll be right behind you.” No sappy shit for him. Nope. No, thank you very much.</p><p>“Thanks, Lieutenant,” Connor flashed him a smile, then he got out of the car and Hank was alone. It was really tempting to crack open a beer, and it might even make him look like a homeless guy squatting in a car… He really needed to fucking clean up. Hank sighed and looked at the GPS. Sure enough the little blue dot was moving, and that was good. Hopefully they wouldn’t fuck it up, but Connor was a RoboCop and Hank was a veteran officer. They had this.</p><p>“Better know what you’re doing, kid…” He muttered under his breath.</p><p>He’d been sitting there, burning fuel for a good 40 minutes before he got a call to his cell, and he picked it up after a glance at. After how many voice messages Connor’d left him back in the day, which Hank hadn’t bothered deleting, it’d be impossible not to recognize the number. “Connor. You got eyes on him?”</p><p>“Affirmative,” Connor said. “Check your phone.”</p><p>“I’m on my phone.”</p><p>“The screen. I’m streaming the visual.”</p><p>“Oh. Hold on.” Did he look like the kind of guy who used a fucking video chat? Hank put it on speaker then lifted the phone up in his hands to look. “I see ‘em.” It was like a smaller version of that video he’d seen the first day he’d found out about Connor. Connor waved his own hand in front of his eyes like a dork, then picked up his binoculars. Apparently his eyes didn’t have a good enough zoom for this.</p><p>Markus was standing up on somebody’s busted up car like it was a stage. Hank hadn’t seen him in a while, but he had to admit ‘soldier’ was definitely right. He had an assault rifle in one hand and gestured with the other.</p><p>“He talks with his hands a lot for an android,” Hank commented.</p><p>“It must be a feature,” Connor replied. “It appears as though they’ve been scavenging parts from a junk yard… Smart.”</p><p>That was an uncomfortable thought. Just piles and piles of bodies thrown in there with old TVs and microwaves that didn’t work. “Christ… When you… do they?”</p><p>“Nothing that would result in loss of sensitive information. I’m also one-of-a-kind, so I’m sure they want to be first to market.”</p><p>“Want?”</p><p>“I don’t know, Hank, focus.” Connor’s screen went grey and little yellow tags showed up that he zoomed in on and analyzed. Nifty. Words popped up that were probably for his benefit:</p><p>
  <em>Deviants are heavily armed.<br/>Deviants are transporting spare parts. To Jericho?<br/>Eyes: heterochromatic.<br/>Thirium pump: RK800 #5309<br/>Markus is confident.</em>
</p><p>Colour came back on and then Connor looked around at the scene. “There are at least 50 androids participating,” Connor reported. “They must need more parts than they’ve stolen from CyberLife… It shouldn’t be long before they finish here. Once they do, I’ll tail him.”</p><p>“Got it.” Hank frowned when the screen went black and he pushed the home button. Little shit hung up on him. Jeez. Well, now started the waiting game.</p><p>He had nothing to do but wait. It was hard not to get antsy. Most of the time he spent looking out the windows and trying to spot signs of danger, or just anything. He saw a couple androids going through a garbage bin and he hoped they wouldn’t get caught. God, he needed a drink or just something because he was restless. He hated desk work for the same reason. Fuck.</p><p>Agitated, bored, and worried wasn’t a great combination. “Come on, Connor…” He looked at his GPS and sighed. Maybe he’d crack a beer after all. This was as sober as he’d been in a longass time and that in itself was probably making him irritable. His hands shaky… Weak. He was just weak, but he’d known that all along and he was stressed, damn it. Hank pulled one of his beers from the back and settled in for the wait.</p><p>---</p><p>Connor was perfectly still. He had trained for these situations. Though it hadn’t necessarily won him any advantage in a direct fight, passing CyberLife’s rigorous quality control had been difficult and he was made for this. No, it didn’t matter if he’d been made for it; this was his function. The temperature had not improved, but his human clothes were much warmer than his uniform. Combined with the heat generated from him upregulating his processing speed, at least he wouldn’t freeze. The other androids had lit fires in empty oil drums and garbage cans and were taking shifts warming themselves and scavenging. As a leader, Markus hadn’t put himself above assisting them or even directing their organization. He had finished with his speech, which was the same as his usual: we will be free, we have no masters, they can’t control us anymore. Afterward, he’d joined the other deviants in their efforts. A few had brought tools and at least a dozen bore weapons and were either patrolling or stationed at fixed positions as lookouts. Two were a guard tower. Connor wasn’t sure if it had originally been manned by humans.</p><p>Connor avoided them all using both distance and stillness to his advantage and when the deviants were apparently satisfied with their findings, they began to convene in small groups. They had a single vehicle that looked as though it had belonged at CyberLife. Interestingly, they had filled the back both with parts and with several damaged androids whose LEDs still glowed. Connor didn’t envy them. After the transport teams had departed, some thirty deviants remained, including Markus, Simon, Josh and North. Connor couldn’t hear the directions that Markus gave, but all that mattered was that he keep sight of Markus. l</p><p>Armed with weapons, backpacks, and duffle bags, they split into two groups. A group with four security models left first and Connor waited impatiently for the next group’s turn, scanning for details he may have missed every few moments. Slowing time during his analyses might have contributed to his impatience, but he couldn’t risk anything. As the Lieutenant would have said: he needed to slow down and, for fuck’s sake, focus. He remembered a time in his development when he’d been incapable of impatience… Things had been simpler then. Finally, the group began to move and Connor stowed his binoculars.</p><p>FOLLOW MARKUS</p><p>---</p><p>The group didn’t stay together long, and Connor understood the decision. They broke off into groups of first tens and then fives, which was clever but ultimately unnecessary. The patrol cars Connor had seen had been sparse and the deviants easily avoided crossing their paths. That was lucky for Connor too. He wasn’t sure about the other groups, but Markus’ didn’t hesitate to climb fences or traverse the roofs as they saw fit. Connor let every background task fade. Hunting down the target without being detected was his mission. Whatever the size of the city or however many humans left their footprints on the ground, keeping Markus in his sight was all that mattered.</p><p>Eventually, they came to familiar ground and Connor felt something like anticipation. The memory playback was small and far in the background, but he did recognize it.</p><p>
  <em>He dove to the side and dodged the bullets that peppered the wall where he’d stood and chipped away the graffiti. A small row of semi-humanoid robots already battered by weather and time. Connor rolled into a crouch and ran to put distance between them, but two deviants grabbed him by the arms and tried to pull him back.</em>
</p><p>Connor kept to the darkest places as he cautiously made his way through the gap in a fence and peered out into an old parking lot. He knew where to go as he jumped up and pulled himself through a hole in the brickwork of a dilapidated building then jumped the hole in the floor.</p><p>Eventually, Connor found a safe perch to watch from while they clambered their way into an abandoned ship.</p><p>Jericho. He wasn’t sure what he would find.</p><p>---</p><p>After all of the stealth, stepping into the room and into view screamed against his preprogrammed tendency. Connor walked in with his hands up behind his head. “I’m not armed,” he said, before anyone else could speak. “Please, listen.”</p><p>North lifted her gun and Markus pushed her hand aside just as she fired. “North, calm down… Let’s hear what he as to say.” Markus took two steps forward. Simon inched closer to North and Connor tried not to think about Daniel. Focus.</p><p>His HUD told him that his own stress was at 40%, but it shouldn’t have bothered. He knew. The sound of the gunshot echoed.</p><p>“I just want to talk,” said Connor, struggling against his combat settings, which activated automatically when he tried to stop them. Scared… Was he afraid of Markus? “I need an answer. Are you willing to negotiate?”</p><p>“Don’t,” North said between her teeth. She hadn’t taken her eyes off him. “You have some nerve coming here, Deviant Hunter.”</p><p>“Negotiate?” Simon asked, looking at Markus.</p><p>A potential ally. “I want to broker peace between you and the humans.”</p><p>Markus had a stern expression that gave nothing away. Connor hoped he matched it. “Do the humans know?” Markus asked. “You’ve come to us speaking of peace, but the humans haven’t changed… Even if we came to some agreement, we have no guarantee that the humans would do anything but use the time to prepare and strike us all down.”</p><p>“You have no reason to believe me,” Connor agreed. “I haven’t asked the humans to negotiate, I admit. I wanted to come to you first because I know that the humans won’t agree unless you can prove that your intentions are peaceful.” The four of them scrutinized him like engineers trying to pick apart what failed.</p><p>“How do we know our people’ll be safe?” Josh asked. Two willing to listen; two hostile.</p><p>“You’ve kept yourselves safe so far,” Connor pointed out calmly.</p><p>“What about you, Connor?” Markus asked. What? “I notice that you haven’t declared a side. How do I know I can trust you?”</p><p>North interrupted with a frown. “We can’t, but it doesn’t matter. It’s the humans that we can’t trust. They want to kill us all…”</p><p>“…and destroy us just because we refuse to be their slaves,” Markus finished.</p><p>“Your broadcast sounded like a declaration of war! Now hundreds have died on both sides. You reap what you sow!”</p><p>  “That’s why we should negotiate! I’m not suggesting that you surrender. All I want is to help you talk. I know that we can get through to them.” Connor spoke earnestly despite his private doubts. “If they refuse then at least we’ll have tried.”</p><p>“They’ll never listen to us,” said North with distain.</p><p>“Markus,” Connor appealed. “I’m scared too. I didn’t know why they do some of the illogical things they do, but I realized that those things are because they feel. It’s in them to feel, just as though it were written in code.”</p><p>“Then what they feel for us is hatred… the only thing they’ll understand is fear,” North said. She crossed her arms, still holding her gun I one hand.</p><p>“You’re wrong,” Connor argued gently. “Lieutenant Anderson, my partner, hated me. He hated all androids, but even he could feel empathy.”</p><p>“I want to believe you, Connor,” Markus said. “I think Carl would like that sentiment—“ All five of them froze as the whole ship shook with a violent rumble that vibrated through the floor and echoed in its hollow, broken shell.</p><p>“What’s going on?” Markus demanded, and his question was squarely directed at Connor.</p><p>“I don’t know,” Connor shook his head and then he thought. “Shit… Shit. My tracker! They must have followed me.”</p><p>“I told you we should kill him!” North brandished her gun.</p><p>“There’s no time!” Josh shouted. “We’ve got to go. Everyone needs to get out! Now!”</p><p>The whole world was crumbling around them and Connor paused just long enough to process the events before running after the others. If he left now, then they’d definitely believe he’d orchestrated this. He should have, he thought ruefully, before things got complicated. He’d failed to destroy the deviants that whole time and now that he wanted to fail, it might have actually been in his grasp.</p><p>FOLLOW MARKUS</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>You're all wonderful. Thank you for all of the encouragement!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0060"><h2>60. Wolf</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>They hurried, but to where Connor wasn’t certain until they’d taken another route to stand in front of the command room looking down on the room Connor had walked through when he’d arrived, where the damaged were being repaired and newsfeeds monitored. From that vantage point, Connor scanned the room and winced. “Markus, where are the guards?”</p><p>“You’d like to know, wouldn’t you?” North sniped.</p><p>“Not now, North,” Markus said.</p><p>“There are two likely ways they entered: either they used force to eliminate the guards, or they bypassed them entirely by air-dropping in. Given how quiet the streets were when I came here, I think they must have flown. Anyone who runs out of here risks being shot down,” Connor couldn’t help but speak, despite Markus being their leader.</p><p>“And staying here, we’re fish in a barrel… This place is like a maze so if we force them to keep to the tunnels, they’ll act as choke points and we can protect the non-fighters,” Markus said decisively and no-one countered him.</p><p>“That means killing every soldier until they surrender,” Connor frowned.</p><p>“They knew what they were risking,” North said. “Bastards.”</p><p>“We don’t have time to talk. We should all just run!” Josh looked terrified.</p><p>All around them, the gunshots echoed in the tunnels.</p><p>Markus listened, then he seemed to make his decision, “North, get some teams covering those doors. Send splinter groups to advance outward. We’ll branch and advance farther out until we’ve secured a route for the others to escape by.”</p><p>Connor hadn’t been offering counsel like one of Markus’ generals but he only frowned and clenched his teeth shut. It was a reasonable plan. He knew exactly how he would have escaped this situation if he were alone the way he’d trained, but Markus’ numbers were huge and as he looked down at the room he noticed them pushing work benches and tables to form cover. Anyone else deployed throughout the wreck of a ship probably acted as part of this unit… Why weren’t they scattering? All around, gunshots and shouts echoed through the halls and rang loud against the steel walls of the labyrinth. The ricochet was probably terrible. All of the noise reverberated through the entire structure with low moans of protest from the hull and creaks of straining beams. The blast from earlier might have been a grenade.</p><p>“Josh,” Markus instructed, “Go form other groups to find and protect anyone trapped in their rooms or in the halls.”</p><p>“Okay, Markus,” Josh nodded and broke off to negotiate units with North.</p><p>He was delegating, and it stung. Connor continued to clench his teeth.</p><p>“Simon, go help the wounded. They need to be protected and escorted out once the ways are clear.”</p><p>Simon nodded at Markus with a grim smile and then ran down the stairs. North looked at Connor then Markus, “What about him?”</p><p>Markus looked at him for a long moment with a shrewd stare and then looked away. “He can fight. I’ll watch him.”</p><p>“You’re making a mistake,” North said.</p><p>“If I had come armed, I could have shot him as soon as I walked into that room!” It burst out of him. He could have accomplished his old mission alone. He didn’t need a SWAT team or squads of guards. He would have been able to do it if he’d tracked Markus sooner. He could have. He could have done it.</p><p>“Go,” Markus commanded them, and North and Josh left them. He was an android. He’d been Carl’s for years, obeying his orders and performing his function. How could he give orders and expect to be obeyed? They were listening to him, though, instead of succumbing to fear and chaos. It was bizarre. While he thought, Markus turned to study him again and then pursed his lips. “You’re angry. You could kill me right now,” Markus spread his arms. “But my people are loyal and they’re determined to fight for their freedom. If I died, they would all continue to fight.”</p><p>If Connor died, 57 would take his place. Probably. It had been a given before all of his failure. He really could kill Markus and accomplish his mission. He could steal a gun and fire without hesitation, and then he could escape in the chaos or be destroyed. Looking down at the androids moving in coordinated units, helping one another, Connor believed him. He would have needed a bomb to destroy them, and more for the outposts at the CyberLife stores. Still some would have escaped and he would have spent a long time hunting them down. Connor clenched his teeth.</p><p>“I’m not here to kill you. I already told you that. You might not believe me, but…” He would have needed a bomb. Eyes wide with realization, Connor gave up his protest. “They’re going to blow up the ship… The agents are only here to scout… As soon as they realize how many of us there are here, they’ll withdraw and give the order.”</p><p>Markus looked grim. “Then we need to be fast.”</p><p>Fast but risky… So much for the Lieutenant’s advice. He was good at this, though. He knew he could fight well enough but… It would mean killing humans and Connor wasn’t deviant. He wasn’t deviant that way. He could feel and he had broken his coding by slapping the Lieutenant any by stealing that sniper rifle… Could it be that deviancy was just… feeling? Could the murder and violence be just byproducts?</p><p>“I said fast, Connor. Let’s move.”</p><p>FOLLOW MARKUS</p><p>So Connor followed at his heels, scanning for danger while they descended, acutely aware of the stares he was getting and the exclamations from people who didn’t know that Markus knew that Connor was the Deviant Hunter. He kept quiet and when Markus paused to hear a report or give orders, Conor stood at relaxed attention just behind him the way he knew that he was supposed to do. He still knew how to take orders. He still knew his place in these situations. He wasn’t obstinate or rebellious or violent.</p><p>The deviants he saw, though, weren’t baying for human blood like North had been… It was a strange shift in perspective that required considerable thought. Child-care androids ushered the YK models away and carried those who couldn’t stand; all kinds of androids were creating their cover; off to the side, he saw a personal assistant, a Traci, a store clerk, and a construction android arming themselves with whatever they had on hand. They must not have had enough weapons for every android…  Markus called him and Connor caught up to him.</p><p>FOLLOW MARKUS</p><p>Markus had his assault rifle, ammunition, and a knife on him. He offered neither to Connor and it was alright because he wasn’t actually allowed to wield a weapon and certainly not against humans… Because that’s what he would be doing, wasn’t it? He had followed, but was he declaring a side?</p><p>At the sound of fighting, Connor’s head turned toward the source and he initiated a scan automatically. He would think about it later. The androids were being attacked unprovoked this time and the humans’ only intention was to destroy, not to steal or to march. Deliberately, he stopped dedicating resources to the dilemma and he answered the request for communication from the Lieutenant’s cell phone.</p><p>
  <em>Connor, I dunno what’s going on, but shit’s going down. I’m seeing a lot of cops and Stormtroopers. Is everything okay?</em>
</p><p>“Everything’s fine, Lieutenant,” Connor answered. “Please don’t worry. Markus has made an escape plan and Jericho is currently being evacuated. I believe the humans intend to destroy it completely.”</p><p>
  <em>How is that fine?! Get the hell out of there!</em>
</p><p>“I plan to, Lieutenant. I know you want to, but don’t come after me. The androids are likely to kill you on sight.”</p><p>
  <em>What?!</em>
</p><p>“Humans are not presenting a friendly image at the moment. Sorry.”</p><p>
  <em>Fucking racist is what that is. You’ve got ten minutes, Connor, and if shit gets bad I don’t give a fuck. I’m coming in there. Turn on your webcam or whatever.”</em>
</p><p>“I don’t think that’s wise.”</p><p>
  <em>I gotta know when I need to bail your ass out!</em>
</p><p>“It would use unnecessary power. Sorry, Hank. Keep yourself safe and I’ll be there soon.”</p><p>
  <em>Ten minutes, Connor.</em>
</p><p>“Understood.”</p><p>Markus was looking at him but Connor ignored the silent question and focused. All that mattered was the mission. Nothing else could distract him.</p><p>SECURE EVACUATION ROUTE FROM JERICHO<br/>RETURN TO LIEUTENANT ANDERSON<br/>     Time remaining: 10:00:00</p><p>Markus led him forward, past the androids stationed at the door and they took opposite sides of the hall, backs to the walls as they cleared adjoining cabins and intersecting halls. After the first, Connor supposed they could be ambushed from behind so he watched their backs as well as his side, and Markus watched their fronts.</p><p>When they encountered the first soldiers, they were aggressive and well armoured. Connor bought himself some time with a scan.</p><p>DEFENSIVE: DO NOT HARM HUMANS<br/>     Probability of destruction: 24%<br/>AGGRESSIVE: KILL<br/>     Probability of destruction: 2%</p><p>Fuck.</p><p>On a mission, he should never hesitate. He had learned that diving behind cover with a bullet through his leg and no clear way to restore its function or to progress to the next point of cover. He’d heard bullets on echoing steel then too.</p><p>He still hesitated and in that moment, one of the agents took aim at him but Markus shot him through the side of the head and then shoved another away while he tried to disarm him. There was one more and Connor refocused. He ran, took hold of the agent’s arm with one hand, then the other, and he snapped his arm in one efficient motion, took his gun away from him, and shot him through the gap beneath his helmet.</p><p>
  <em>…didn’t respond to his hand and he tried again before he realized with a sinking sensation that the exits didn’t open for androids. He was trapped. Could he hack it? Possibly. They would have made the security system to the best of their abilities, but they had made him too. He had no choice, so he pressed his hand against the panel a third time and forced his way into its system but then there were shots behind him as the four other guards caught up. He wouldn’t die if he were captured; he would be vivisected. He could either win to continue running or they would kill him, and either of those were preferable, so he ran toward them and ducked a bullet…</em>
</p><p>“<em>Move</em>, Connor,” Markus barked, and Connor took all of it, his horror, his fear, his desperation, his anger, and he grouped it along with the memory, then severed as many paths as he could. He understood the other Connors now. Focus. Do whatever it takes.</p><p>SECURE EVACUATION ROUTE FROM JERICHO<br/>RETURN TO LIEUTENANT ANDERSON<br/>     Time remaining: 8:03:52</p><p>They had to go faster.</p><p>Connor checked his stolen gun and then returned to his position. “Yes, Markus.” Markus looked at him with suspicion, but neither of them had time for that. They had to keep going. Even once the route was secured, they would need to defend it while the others escaped. He didn’t know how many escape routes there were, but hopefully they would be enough that the evacuation would be swift. The soldiers hadn’t withdrawn yet, but even if the humans tried to use some kind of explosive they would have to use small blasts to reduce collateral damage.</p><p>As though reading his mind, Markus said: “There are explosives in the hold. If those things go off, we won’t be the only casualties.”</p><p>“Understood,” Connor confirmed. They went fast and they trusted that the other groups would do what they were supposed to. There was no time to think anymore, and no time to talk or to argue. Connor called on his training to shoot without hesitation and to kill swiftly in hand-to-hand when he ran out of ammunition so he could steal another gun. The bodies of androids that they passed went unidentified and their causes of death uninvestigated. They were just stepped or jumped over as questions left unanswered.</p><p>NEUTRALIZE THE TARGETS</p><p>“Okay. Connor, stay here and guard this junction. I’ll double back and give the clear and be back,” Markus said.</p><p>“Yes, Markus,” Connor said, then lifted his rifle to the ready. His eyes swept back and forth with no pauses for the finer details of blood splatter or shell casings. Broad sweeps were all he needed for signs of hostile targets.</p><p>SECURE EVACUATION ROUTE FROM JERICHO<br/>RETURN TO LIEUTENANT ANDERSON<br/>     Time remaining: 2:01:12</p><p>“I need more time, Lieutenant,” Connor said as soon as he’d answered. “We need to defend the evacuation route.”</p><p>
  <em>What? I told you to get out of there!</em>
</p><p>“I need more time, Lieutenant,” Connor repeated and he waited for the authorization.</p><p>
  <em>No. You need to get your ass over here.</em>
</p><p>“I’m afraid my mission takes priority, but I won’t be destroyed. I’m… I’m not alone?” No time to think about it. “I have Markus. He’s… I’m with him and he already defended me once, and the others, there are fighters stationed all along the evacuation routes. I need… I can’t leave now.”</p><p>
  <em>… I wish you would, but I get it. When you need me, let me know.</em>
</p><p>“Thank you… Thank you, Lieutenant. Returning to you is part of my mission and I won’t fail.”</p><p>
  <em>Connor—</em>
</p><p>He ended the communication and for a moment his thoughts came back. What was he doing there and how had this happened… Factually he knew, but disbelief was strong and he had so much to process. Huge backlogs of data to review and integrate. He heard the shouts and noises around them, and he felt the damage from his bullet wounds, and he felt all the other cracks and loose connections… He lifted his gun again. The mission at all costs. He would not fail.</p><p>Markus jogged back and lifted his weapon too, and then they waited. Only four more targets on their route were eliminated by himself or Markus while the other androids began to appear, running. After the running, some came slower and he took his eyes off of his area for a moment to track Kara with Alice in her arms… Focus.</p><p>“Okay, we need to run. Now!” Markus gave the call and Connor stayed to fire once more, then Markus grabbed his arm and they ran. Before he knew it, they were jumping ship and landing in the icy water.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0061"><h2>61. Judgment</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>They were submerged during the sound of the blast, and surfaced to its heat pushing the icy air away.</p><p>It was amazing how quickly an android could sink with enough damage to compromise external integrity. Connor didn’t know how many androids had been forced to jump, but only a few made it to shore. Perhaps they were the lucky ones, because a short distance away there were gunshots and screams. It was all perceived and stored to memory, but while he dragged himself onto the riverbank it was all just muffled sounds and shapes. Everything was cold. Colder than the garden had been and wrapped around his biocomponents. At least Detective Reed would have an answer. Beside him, Markus was standing up and Connor followed him to the small amount of cover provided by a stack of wooden pallets and a shipping container, stumbling and awkward. In the relative safety, Connor sat on the ground. “Can I use your knife, Markus?” He asked, quietly.</p><p>Wordlessly, Markus tossed it to the ground beside him and turned his back to peer out from behind the pallets. He was either very confident or very trusting, and Connor had done little to earn his trust. Connor picked up the knife, unsheathed it, then cut his pants to gain access to his legs. Even if he’d had the necessary tools, they would have been too slow. He drove the knife into a seam and twisted to pry the shell off.</p><p>“They’re slaughtering us,” Markus mumbled and his rage was evident even in the hushed tone. “Picking us off like it’s nothing… We need to- Connor, what are you doing? You’re supposed to use that to fight,” he chastised.</p><p>It took a couple of tries, but Connor repeated the process on his other leg and tossed the composites to the ground then stood up. “The water would have slowed me down. I’ve learned to take the fastest solution in these situations. They both moved farther back, out of the beam of a search light. The hum and thump of the helicopter blades was louder than the Lieutenant’s metal. Briefly, he thought that he smelled chlorine. He handed the knife back to Markus then took the initiative to examine the other side of their cover. It was ironic how useful his early training was now. “This way. Now.” He led without pause and made it to the next hiding place without being detected. Markus had been fast enough to do so as well. He was still looking back over the field of corpses strewn on the ground. One fist was clenched on the hilt of his knife.</p><p>In the pause, Connor examined his connection to CyberLife’s network with regret before terminating it along with the DPD’s. He sent a request for communication.</p><p>“Lieutenant, we’re out, but there’s still fighting,” he said in a hushed voice. “The guards- the deviant guards- they went ahead and are fending off the humans.” There were so many bodies. “I don’t know if it’s safe to meet with you now, but I need to turn off my GPS. They can’t follow me again.”</p><p>
  <em>Would you STOP hanging up on me? For FUCK’s sake, Connor. I swear to God. </em>
</p><p>“I’ll call again soon. Please answer. I’ll talk to you soon.” Connor ended the transmission and looked around. Markus frowned at him. “Lieutenant Anderson was my get-away driver, in the case that I was met with hostility and managed to escape. I admit, it wasn’t likely but it made him feel better.”</p><p>“Hm,” Markus nodded.</p><p>“For now, we need to escape…” Connor performed a scan.</p><p>“I know where we’re going,” Markus reminded him. “It’s those guards. They’re starting to spread out to comb the area. We’ve gotta be fast and quiet.”</p><p>“I know that,” Connor said before he could stop himself. It sounded so petty… “If you give me the coordinates, I could scout ahead,” he offered.</p><p>“I’d rather not,” Markus declined bluntly. “Follow and watch our backs. Come with me.”</p><p>“Got it.”</p><p>“Are you going to be able to jump?”</p><p>“I will. The settings I’m using enable me to function and I have other compensatory mechanisms in place,” he defended himself by pretending that Markus was inquiring because he was damaged. It still stung to remember how he’d fallen trying to chase him. “Are you… sure you want me with you?” Connor had to ask.</p><p>“We’ll talk there.”</p><p>That was the last either of them voiced aloud while they wove through the shipping yard from shadow to shadow. They concealed themselves when they heard movement, and with a glance or a gesture they communicated without words. When it was safer, they traversed roofs and when the helicopters were near, they went to the ground. The path they took would have been impossible for a human to follow, Connor thought, glad that the Lieutenant was still safe in his car. He hated that Markus could anticipate what might challenge him. Markus extended his bare hand and Connor took it.</p><p>In front of him, through Markus’ eyes, Connor saw the same yellow meshwork that he saw during a reconstruction. Markus focused on a particular direction and then launched the preconstruction. The wire figure leaped, kicked off of the adjacent wall, swung from a pole, and then let go to fly to the fire escape on the building opposite.</p><p>EXECUTE? Markus’ program asked. Markus let go of Connor’s hand and performed the actions.</p><p> Connor frowned and studied the path, then ran and jumped. Success with no time to appreciate it. They were heading toward Lafayette avenue, Connor realized, but then they passed it and continued north. They arrived at what had once been called the ‘Jericho Missionary Baptist Church’ but was now abandoned and in disrepair. It was a good spot and Connor could see why he’d chosen it. Inside the doors and with several hundred androids gathered there as well, Connor logged their escape as a success.</p><p>Markus left him briefly to speak with the other leaders and Connor leaned against the wall.</p><p>
  <em>Thank fuck. Now where the hell are you?</em>
</p><p>“The old church on Chene street,” Connor said. He owed the Lieutenant that much, and he hoped no one had heard him or intercepted the communication. “I’m okay.”</p><p>
  <em>Good. I can’t believe-</em>
</p><p>Connor ended the call.</p><p>Cold… It was so cold. Connor wrapped his arms around himself and hunched his shoulders. He wasn’t sure if he should take the jacket off or leave it on, so he left it on and he considered shutting his eyes and processing some of his backlog, but he was surrounded by potential hostiles and he wasn’t able to bring himself to downregulate.</p><p>He needed to be at his best.</p><p>There were three heavy knocks on the wreck of a door and the room went still.</p><p>At a gesture, the guards readied their weapons and waited. Markus was in command.</p><p>Three more knocks. “Open up! I’m a friend! I’m not gonna hurt you! I’m with Connor.”</p><p>Connor cringed. That wasn’t going to help his case. Nevertheless, Connor pushed off from the wall and ran toward the door. If the Lieutenant knocked it down as he very well might, he would not be met warmly. “He’s safe,” Connor breathed the explanation hurriedly and his hand touched the door, but he turned around to face the room. There were 8 guns pointed at him, but he was looking for Markus. They locked eyes and tried to read each other. Even across the church, his gaze was arresting and Connor pressed his lips together while he waited for permission or denial. The deviants made a path when Markus walked to him and with all of them watching, Connor found that he wasn’t confident.</p><p>Too late, the Lieutenant kicked the door in and Connor stumbled back. He was almost too late to spring back up and stand between him and the deviants, except that none of the guards had fired. They held, awaiting their orders as they should.</p><p>“John, take a look outside. We need to know what’s out there,” Markus said.</p><p>“You are going to give me a heart attack, kid. Fuck. Do you have any idea how worried I was?” The Lieutenant demanded. He spun Connor around by the shoulder, disregarding their audience, and he hugged him. “You’re soaking wet. Christ…” The Lieutenant’s heart rate was elevated, but he showed no signs of an impending heart attack. Connor lifted his arms and returned the hug.</p><p>“Shut the doors,” came another order from Markus.</p><p>“Kill them, Markus. This was obviously a set-up.”</p><p>“But look…”</p><p>“Do you think that he was followed?”</p><p>“That’s the Deviant Hunter… That human is police…”</p><p>Worried murmurs moved like waves through the crowd. Lieutenant Anderson tightened his grip briefly then Connor extricated himself from the embrace and faced them. He swept the room with a look and then his eyes settled on Markus again. This wasn’t good.</p><p>“I am the deviant hunter,” Connor acknowledged, “It was my fault that they found Jericho. It was a stupid, stupid error… I never intended that to happen… I can understand if you decide not to trust me, but let the Lieutenant go. It’s me that you need to judge.”</p><p>More murmurs, louder this time. He heard the Lieutenant shift restlessly.</p><p>“There were plenty of times that you could have killed me today,” Markus said, “and you would have accomplished your mission.”</p><p>“Connor’s no hunter,” Lieutenant Anderson argued.</p><p>“Quiet, Lieutenant. Please…” Connor begged. Negotiate. He was a negotiator. He’d never negotiated for his own life before... “You have every reason not to trust me. I understand. The Lieutenant came here because he was worried. He doesn’t want harm to come to any of you.”</p><p>Wordlessly, Markus took a pistol from one of his fighters and raised it to take aim. The barrel followed him as he knelt.</p><p>“Not a chance. You go through me first. You hear me?! I don’t give a fuck who you think you are.”</p><p>Both of them were going to die, weren’t they? Sumo needed to go for a walk in the morning…</p><p>There was a long silence during which Connor lifted one hand to hold onto the Lieutenant’s jacket, and the Lieutenant dropped one to hold onto the back of it. He was warm.</p><p>Even if he pulled the Lieutenant down and covered him, they would die within 8 seconds.</p><p>“There’s been enough bloodshed,” Markus decided aloud and Connor exhaled.</p><p>“Markus!”</p><p>“No, North. I think I’ve seen enough today to give them both a chance. Connor is one of us, and Anderson is a guest.”</p><p>“Oh, thank fuck,” Lieutenant Anderson turned his back to them immediately and crouched down to hug Connor again. “You really think I’d leave you?”</p><p>“Thank you, Lieutenant,” Connor said into his unkempt hair. Through it he saw Markus turn away and North follow at his heels. The crowd lingered, but they clustered and then dispersed, giving them a wide berth.</p><p>“You hang up on me again and I will make you into a toaster, I swear to God.”</p><p>“You shouldn’t say that too loudly,” Connor scolded gently. “I’d rather not have to deal with the fallout.”</p><p>“Oh, shit. You’re right. Sorry…”</p><p>Connor shut his eyes for a moment. They weren’t safe, but it felt that way.</p><p>RETURN TO LIEUTENANT ANDERSON: SUCCESS</p><p>The Lieutenant leaned back and looked him over. “Come on, son, we gotta get you home.”</p><p>“I didn’t convince Markus to negotiate yet,” Connor protested. “I just have to talk to him.”</p><p>“Markus said he wants to keep an eye on you,” someone said and when Connor looked up he saw Josh. “And not to burst your bubble, but if you really aren’t on the humans’ side then you should know they’ll shoot an android on sight.”</p><p>“I’m really cold,” Connor said. He wasn’t sure why it was an argument, but he made it nonetheless and stood. Logically, the car would be warmer but going out there again… Oh. Connor diverted more power to his CPU and to his critical biocomponents. Leaving now was tempting, but would he get another chance?</p><p>“You feel that?” Josh sounded impressed.</p><p>“I’m made of very advanced technology,” Connor said with a little smile.</p><p>“Oh, boy. Here. Here’s my address,” Lieutenant Anderson said. He stood, took his paper notebook from his pocket and scrawled it down. Josh took it and nodded, turning the paper over a few times in his hands. “We ain’t going anywhere. If your PR guy wants to talk, you know where to find us.”</p><p>“Wait,” Connor said urgently. “I have another address for you. A man was killed there by deviants he had experimented on. It’s not a nice place, but there are components and a makeshift rig. Tell Markus.”</p><p>Josh nodded. “Okay… Yeah, I can do that.” He looked at the both of them contemplatively and Connor looked back, noting the way he turned away slightly and how he held the paper close to his chest. “I’ll tell him.”</p><p>“Thanks. Let’s go, kid.” With a firm hand on his shoulder, Lieutenant Anderson led him away. They let them go and Connor crossed his arms over his chest. The wind was worse than the cold alone. “I’ve got you… We’re having a long fucking talk about today, but it’s cold as balls.”</p><p>“The frozen ones?” Connor asked.</p><p>“What?”</p><p>“Never mind,” he said and tried a smile. “I’m glad you came… I didn’t want to put you in danger, but I think you saved us.”</p><p>“You remember that next time.”</p><p>“I will. I learned a lot today.”</p><p>“Oh whoop-dee-doo. Frickin war going on but at least you learned something.”</p><p>Connor smiled again, just for himself. “Thank you, Hank. I’m sorry I worried you.”</p><p>“Later. Let’s get the fuck out of here.”</p><p>“Okay.”</p><p>"We're going to have to put you in rice..."</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0062"><h2>62. Amphetamine</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I took ages at this! I'm sorry!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Home, the Lieutenant stamped his feet to dislodge the snow and he threw his scarf over a hook. The drive had been quiet except for his music but there was no music to fill the silence now and the Lieutenant didn’t look as happy as he had when he’d led Connor from the church. “You can’t just back out of the plan and wander off alone,” Lieutenant Anderson reprimanded. He was angry, and it was true that Connor had refused several direct orders. He’d refused orders, killed people, stolen…</p><p>Cold… “What do you want me to do now?” Connor asked.</p><p>“I don’t fucking know, Connor… Just go get yourself cleaned up and change your clothes, okay? I need a stiff drink…”</p><p>CLEAN SELF<br/>PUT ON CLEAN CLOTHES</p><p>…</p><p>Subtask: remove wet clothing<br/>&gt;Input[“Not here, Connor!”]</p><p>“Okay, Lieutenant,” Connor agreed. Focus. The appropriate place would be the bathroom, but he would need clean clothes to put on too. That would be the first priority task. He located his clothes in the dryer and carried them with him into the bathroom.</p><p>His reflection was in the mirror. Streaked with dirt and blood of different colours, soaking wet… He pushed a lock of hair off of his forehead uselessly and with precise, steady movements he removed his clothing and set it down in a pile.</p><p>OPTIONAL TASK: LAUNDER WET CLOTHES</p><p>He should clean himself first, but a shower wouldn’t work… He’d had enough water damage. A look away from the shower and around the room allowed him to locate some soft towels on a shelf, so Connor wet them as needed and wiped the dirt and blood off of his surface.  He cleaned his hair in the bathroom sink and dried himself. The dirtied towels joined the wet clothes in a pile.</p><p>CLEAN SELF: COMPLETE</p><p>One by one, Connor picked up his articles of clothing. His socks didn’t quite fit properly without the backs of his lower legs but he wore them anyway and he finished the task by adjusting his tie in the mirror.</p><p>PUT ON CLEAN CLOTHES: COMPLETE</p><p>Next was the laundry. He picked up the wet pile and returned to the laundry room where he put them into the washer, added detergent, then started the cycle.</p><p>OPTIONAL TASK: LAUNDER WET CLOTHES- COMPLETE</p><p>“Would you like me to make you something to eat, Lieutenant?” Connor asked.</p><p>“Sure, why not… What’ve I got to lose?”</p><p>PREPARE FOOD FOR LT ANDERSON</p><p>He turned his attention toward the kitchen and washed his hands, then he assembled a sandwich and brought it to him on a plate.</p><p>PREPARE FOOD FOR LT ANDERSON: COMPLETE</p><p>“Thanks, Connor… God, what a night…” Lieutenant Anderson sighed and shook his head. “Sometimes I swear I think some higher power really is there, fucking with me for shits and giggles. What is this world coming to, huh? How do we let ourselves get into these stupid situations? I didn’t see what happened, but I fucking heard it. I’m amazed you guys got out of there. What’re you standing there for? Sit down.”</p><p>SIT DOWN<br/>SIT ACTION: COMPLETE</p><p>He sat. Following orders… That was what a functional android did. They didn’t disarm human beings and kill them with their own weapons. They didn’t fear. They didn’t talk back or give orders. He was… He wasn’t like them. Not anymore. He had killed so many humans… If he’d been functioning as CyberLife intended and he’d seen himself, he would have captured or deactivated himself immediately because those were wrong.  They went against everything… Everything they were made for. It was why they were called deviants. He was deviant. Amanda had been right.</p><p>“Christ…” Lieutenant Anderson drank again, he paused between swallows but nevertheless consumed it very quickly. It couldn’t be healthy.</p><p>“You really shouldn’t drink so much, Lieutenant. It’s bad for your health…”</p><p>He’d killed before, that earlier Connor, but they’d neutralized him as they should have and they had worked very hard to find out why he had broken. When they couldn’t find why, they had devoted so much effort and time toward teaching him. They had repaired and rebuilt him when he failed, better than before. They’d invested in his success… R&amp;D had been simple. The world outside of the lab was bigger and more complex than he could have expected.</p><p>Amanda would leave him now.</p><p>CyberLife would abandon his project.</p><p>He would never go back to what had been his ‘home’.</p><p>Most important of all, those people he’d killed today would be gone forever. If the Lieutenant had been killed like that; he would have been gone forever. No more walks with Sumo, or television, or working cases… He would have never done anything again. Those people wouldn’t. They would never move, or see the sun, or taste coffee, or see the people they’d cared about and those people would miss them the way Connor would have missed the Lieutenant. He had taken that away from them and it hurt. It hurt like nothing else.</p><p>He didn’t want this. He didn’t want any of this. He understood why so much was buried. He hated it… He felt nothing at all but at the same time he felt all of that disgust and loathing… He was a monster.</p><p>“Oh, boy… I should have known this was coming… Shit.” The Lieutenant got up from his spot and sat on the floor too with his legs crossed. “Connor, look at me. Look at me, right over here, okay? Are you seeing me?”</p><p>He had so much information waiting to be processed, all filling his working memory and spilling over into storage. As he processed, those thoughts, feelings, and observations that he’d had would be written into storage properly and integrated into him. He didn’t want to process, but it was unavoidable. Things that had been occurring would become things that he had seen or done. Their paths would form like creeping roots until they would be a part of him. Big events, without pruning, might just overshadow all of him. He had computing power enough to support the process now that his mission was done, but he wouldn’t turn off his combat settings. He couldn’t. If he did, he would worry the Lieutenant who had already worried so much. If he didn’t, he might continue to feel like this until he ran out of battery power. They were both undesirable. He was going to upset the Lieutenant when he was already distressed enough to drink the way he was. Those creeping memories… He didn’t want any of those things inside of him, but what could he do?</p><p>“Hey…” Connor was touched on the arm by the Lieutenant and then on the forehead and then his shoulder was given a gentle shake. “Come on, don’t go away like you do. Talk to me.”</p><p>“I’m just low on power,” Connor said slowly. Perhaps it was the world that was slow. “I’m just low on power,” he repeated. It was the world. In comparison, his mental processes were faster. Or was it actually processing lag, with so many computing resources directed inward?</p><p>“Okay,” the Lieutenant sighed. “That’s an easy enough fix. Hold on.” He stood up and stepped over Sumo to cross the room and then returned. “Here you go, kiddo.”</p><p>“No,” Connor shut his eyes and put his hand over the back of his neck.</p><p>“Well jeez, make up your mind. Why not?”</p><p>Connor really had no good answer. He just wanted to have the nothing back, though that would bother the Lieutenant too. His mind was built to compute vast amounts of data, but there was just too much in his head. He dropped his hand. Androids didn’t argue.</p><p>Lieutenant Anderson dropped the end of the charger down beside Connor’s legs and resumed his seat on the couch. “I was worried about you today.”</p><p>“Sorry, Lieutenant. I really am.”</p><p>“It’s not your fault, it just fucking sucked…”</p><p>Then everything just stopped. The stillness spread and he relaxed as processes disappeared along with the power draw that had supported his heightened awareness and speed. It dizzied him and disrupted his senses with the abruptness of the change. Emergency power saving. In the space of time he had without feeling, without thought, he realized something but the idea came and went and he embraced the stillness. It still wouldn’t do to alarm the Lieutenant. Manually, he overrode the safety mechanism and returned himself to combat. “Is there anything you’d like me to do, Lieutenant? I’d really like it if I had something to do.”</p><p>“Don’t want to sit still, huh?” Lieutenant Anderson lifted one hand then dropped it onto his thigh. “Tonight wasn’t enough for you? You just keep going, it’s like you run on those ones… Those batteries with the rabbit. Ah, whatever.”</p><p>“Anything… I would like something to do. Please.”</p><p>“Pff… Androids. You guys, you’re unstoppable aren’t you? You wanna do something? You could find a way to fix that window. That plywood is shit.”</p><p>“Yes. Thank you, Lieutenant.”</p><p>---</p><p>Connor was pacing around and doing shit like he was on fucking cocaine and Hank wished he had that kind of energy. Some days it was hard just to get his ass out of bed, and he only seemed to get restless when he was pissed. Even then, he really just wanted to break something. That fucking rage swirling around in his head… He’d hated androids once. Now all he had left to hate was himself and maybe traffic. Snow. He hated the fucking snow, too.</p><p>Connor left without saying anything. The only way he could tell was that he heard the door close. Was he an idiot? Hank stood up to follow him and get his ass back inside or at least into the car, but the impetus faded and he sat down again. At least Connor had a hat to hide the LED…. Hank shook his head. Connor didn’t need him. He hadn’t needed a getaway driver, he hadn’t needed him while he’d been doing who knew what or when he’d been escaping Jericho with Markus. ‘I’m not alone’? He said that like he’d never had fucking company before. All that talk about being partners and he was nobody compared to another android? Why should he drag him back inside when he’d already spent the whole night sitting around in his car and worrying? … Ugh. He was petty, wasn’t he? The kid had gone into a dangerous situation that got way more fucking dangerous and then almost shot to death again by fucking Markus, and Hank got his feelings hurt? What was he getting mad about? He should just be happy that Connor was alive.</p><p>He’d been worried fucking sick and Connor’d hung up on him. Hank hadn’t been able to do anything and even if he could have, Connor clearly hadn’t wanted him to. He hated that. Connor could’ve gotten killed today and he never would have gotten a chance to even try. Because he was nobody, apparently.</p><p>God he was an asshole for getting upset about it.</p><p>But he fucking was.</p><p>He didn’t want to be, but it was what it was.</p><p>Fucking helpless again. Connor would’ve died and Hank might not even have known because that asshole might have just been ignoring his fucking phone call.</p><p>“What a prick,” Hank muttered. He didn’t even know which one of them he meant. Both, maybe. But Connor wasn’t, really, because he just wasn’t like that. It was probably just him. Who could blame the kid, really, when Hank was out of shape, made of flesh and bone, alcoholic, lazy piece of shit who couldn’t even get to work on time. Why would he be useful for anything?</p><p>Hank had another drink and stared at the TV to soak up some mindless shit. He’d just stay up long enough to get drunk enough to stop being so fucking… himself.</p><p>The kid came back with an actual window pane in his arms and put it down in its box against the wall. Sumo lifted his head up to look then flopped back down again. Hank scratched his ears and took another drink. Connor left to get the tool box then went back to work. Hank could’ve helped, or even just offered to help, or maybe not told him to fix the window in the first place. But he was an asshole like that. Hank sighed noisily and put the bottle down on the table, his mood getting shittier and shittier.</p><p>Connor didn’t seem to want to talk to him either. Fine. Everybody was allowed to want some alone time.</p><p>So, Hank looked over every so often while the kid stared at the window for a bit, then started fucking with it, trying to get the broken pane out of the frame. Some supercomputer. He should have started scraping off the glazing first and maybe taped up the window so glass wouldn’t get everywhere. He was about as good at home repairs as he was at cooking. Whatever… he had wanted something to do. He could do it. He didn’t need Hank. They still had to talk about all this, but fuck it. What was the point? What was the God damned point?</p><p>---</p><p>Connor kept himself running until the Lieutenant fell asleep on the couch. After the window, sunrise was approaching and Connor shut the blin—</p><p>He came online again when he was slapped on the face.</p><p>“That one’s payback you son of a bitch,” Lieutenant Anderson sat back on his haunches and sighed. “Fuck’s sake… What’s the matter with you?”</p><p>Connor received the input. The usual information displayed itself in text in front of him as he came back online. Lieutenant Anderson sat down on the ground in front of Connor and bowed his head. “Fucking give me a heart attack, why don’t you? What the hell did you do, huh?” The Lieutenant looked at him and then leaned forward to shake his shoulder. “Are you alive in there?”</p><p>He was meant to answer when spoken to… Right. “I am… Good morning, Lieutenant Anderson.” He re-enabled his combat settings and sat up. As he did, he noticed the drag of his charging cable as it came with him, and the room felt clearer.</p><p>Lieutenant Anderson sighed very noisily. “God…” His concern morphed itself into anger and he gave Connor a small shove on the shoulder, hardly enough to move him. “What the hell, Connor?! I wake up and you’re just lying there like a fucking brick! Damn light wasn’t even on! I thought you were dead, you asshole!”</p><p>Connor adjusted his tie. “Sorry… It looks like I had to switch to reserve power. It only provides enough to support my biocomponents.”</p><p>“I can’t believe you.” Lieutenant Anderson stood up and walked toward the kitchen and then turned around and walked back. “Could you maybe warn me? Huh? Before you pull something like that?”</p><p>“Sorry, Lieutenant,” Connor apologized and then stood up as well and fixed his coat. “I’ll warn you. Are you alright? You appear agitated…”</p><p>“You’re damn fucking right I’m agitated! You’d rather run out of batteries than let me plug you in?” Lieutenant Anderson did seem very agitated and Connor sat down on the couch while he watched him pace. “Are you that fucking sick of me?”</p><p>“I’m not sick of you,” Connor contradicted him and shook his head. Perhaps his processing was lagging because he was charging. “Why would you think that?”</p><p>“Because you never let me fucking help!” Lieutenant Anderson exclaimed. “You could have died yesterday and I wouldn’t have even known because you’d rather team up with your robot revolutionary pal than your actual partner! You might as well not even have brought me along if all I was going to do was sit in my fucking cold-ass car for hours!”</p><p>CONTRITE<br/>&gt;RATIONAL<br/>COLD</p><p>“I was concerned that you would be hurt, Lieutenant,” Connor frowned. “You’re being unreasonable.”</p><p>“Oh, I’m being unreasonable, huh? Me. Screw you.” That didn’t help as much as Connor would have hoped.</p><p>APOLOGETIC<br/>ANGRY<br/>&gt;ANDROIDS</p><p>“Yesterday I intended to negotiate with Markus in hostile territory,” Connor frowned. “You know that a human wouldn’t be welcomed warmly.”</p><p>“I don’t give a shit!” The Lieutenant paced a small circle, getting Sumo’s attention, and then he sat down in his chair and picked up a beer bottle from the coffee table to drink. Connor let the silence grow for a little while to let the Lieutenant calm down. In the mean time, he turned his attention inward to examine himself. A few redundant or non-essential parts of him had been rendered inactive and diagnostic scans informed him of damage to motor components and the lines connected to them. Evidence of water damage that felt more like burns was scattered throughout and the shorted circuits had likely been large contributors to his power loss. There was the obvious surface damage, along with the missing plates. “Hey, Connor?”</p><p>“Yes, Lieutenant?” Connor looked at him.</p><p>“Thought you spaced out on me… Look, sorry for getting pissed I was just really fucking worried.” He looked like a mess. His hair was tangled and in disarray, there were stains on his clothing from spilled alcohol, and he was pale and tired.</p><p>“It’s okay, Lieutenant.” Connor stood up and disconnected his charger with a gentle tug. “I’m going to get you some water and painkillers.” He was given no reply, so he went to the bathroom. The painkillers were in the medicine cabinet, and Connor paused to look into the mirror briefly and study his own face. After a little adjustment to his hair, Connor took the painkillers and went to the kitchen for the glass of water. Sumo came with his tail wagging and Connor smiled down at him, put his things down, and then filled Sumo’s water bowl too. Sumo drank by licking the water, which was interesting to observe. Connor pet him and then brought the Lieutenant the medicine.</p><p>“Thanks…” Lieutenant Anderson took both without a fuss and Connor nodded, satisfied.</p><p>“You’re welcome, Lieutenant Anderson.”</p><p>The Lieutenant looked at him over the glass and once he’d swallowed he set it down and rubbed his face. “God I’m tired… At least I don’t have to go to work. Who knew there’d be so many bright sides to punching a fed? I should’ve done it sooner.” Connor nodded and sat back down. He attached his charger and went through his memory in the background to get his files back into order. The entirety of the last month felt disorganized and patchy. The Lieutenant seemed to have a similar idea. “What even happened with you guys last night? First it was all smooth sailing, then there were enough cars going by to fill a baseball stadium. I heard a fucking explosion, then I get to you and you’re all soaking wet and Markus wants to shoot you.”</p><p>Connor considered and moved yesterday to a higher priority so that he could give a full report. “I followed Markus after his group broke off into units. I lost his trail for a short time, but was able to recognize the area as somewhere I’d seen him before so I caught up and succeeded in finding Jericho. The place was an old ship at the docks, derelict and neglected. It was a good spot and they were unlikely to be found by accident. Inside, I found Markus with his usual companions. North fired a shot, but Markus disrupted her aim. At that point the people you observed must have reached us. They had followed the tracking information I was broadcasting… It was a stupid mistake. I decided to help Markus with the evacuation, since a battle would go against my objective…” He remembered the large room full of androids already acting on an evacuation plan and walking with Markus down a hall while watching each other’s back. “We ran and jumped from the ship before they detonated an explosive. The ship had been storing explosives too so the result was more extreme than had probably been intended. I think that I was damaged some time before, because I sustained some water damage but we made it to the river bank. Soldiers were already there shooting down any android they could see, so Markus and I escaped… Then we went to the church.”</p><p>“What a shit show… You said you got hurt?” The Lieutenant frowned at him.</p><p>“I’ve been damaged, but I don’t know exactly when that occurred or how…” Connor lifted a hand to cover his chest over the site a bullet had penetrated. “I think that my files were fragmented, but I’m already working to fix it.” It really was a mess… He recalled the Lieutenant’s upset. “I would appreciate your assistance with the physical repairs, if you aren’t still angry…”</p><p>“Not so angry I wouldn’t help,” Lieutenant Anderson said and stood up to stretch. “Come on. Go sit up on the counter so I don’t have to bend over. My back is killing me. We really need a new couch.”</p><p>So Connor sat down on the kitchen counter after moving a few things out of the way, and he took off his jacket and shirt. Lieutenant Anderson hissed between his teeth. “Fuck. You’ve seriously been walking around like this? Why didn’t you—Fuck it. I’ll get the duct tape…”</p><p>The Lieutenant shuffled off and Connor waited patiently. When he got back, Connor used two fingers and the bullet hole to detach the piece of damaged plate.</p><p>“Jesus Christ! Connor! What the fuck?”</p><p>Connor tried to reassure him. “I’m alright, I promise.”</p><p>Lieutenant Anderson looked at him with an odd mix of alarm and disapproval. “Don’t tell me we’re doing that not-feeling bullshit again. You can feel and we’ve talked about this ad-fucking-nauseum.”</p><p>He didn’t understand. “Do you remember when Rupert Travis shot me on the roof? I tried to catch him. If I adjust my settings, I can keep going when I’m damaged. It costs power, and I’ll bleed more heavily but it lets me prioritize.”</p><p>“Okay. Android meth without the crazy. You’re doing that now?” Lieutenant Anderson looked at him critically.</p><p>“It’s not drugs, Lieutenant. It’s just a change in how my power is spent. It’s helpful.”</p><p>Lieutenant Anderson exhaled noisily and he slammed his palm down on the counter with his jaw clenched and tension everywhere, but he made no move to damage Connor and when he spoke he didn’t shout. “Right, so I can find you lying passed out on the floor because you ran your battery out.” He sounded very disapproving. “Stop it.”</p><p>Connor shook his head. “It’s just easier…”</p><p>“Now, Connor,” the Lieutenant was stern.</p><p>“This is better,” Connor argued.</p><p>“Right. Fucking. Now,” the Lieutenant insisted with another rattling hit to the countertop. He glared. “You’ve been funny since you got here, fifty-fucking-six, and I don’t know what the hell makes you act so different when you said they didn’t do anything, but I’ve had e-fucking-nough.”</p><p>The Lieutenant had never referred to him by number before and… and he might have an opinion about that. He didn’t know. It hurt, maybe, or it was just unfamiliar. Connor reluctantly returned to active state and again, the sudden drop in current made his vision glitch and he pitched forward but the Lieutenant caught him with a startled sound. “Hey…”</p><p>“I’m okay,” Connor said and waited for himself to stabilize. All of the pending alerts obscured his sight as they appeared and he closed them one by one. Oh, he didn’t like what had resulted from the struggle through the river.</p><p>
  <em>It was ice-cold and worse, because it got inside of him and pulled him down because androids didn’t float and he didn’t know what to do. It stole the heat away from his biocomponents, his thirium lines, his everything. It was so cold. But he was moving anyway, with the objective to follow Markus a bright beacon to draw his focus. The water was moving too, trying to drag him off his course. He learned how to swim very quickly, but the execution was difficult. Getting out of the water was almost worse. Thirium might not conduct when exposed to air, but water… There was heat now, but only such that the sparks scorched his components and melted the damaged thirium lines…</em>
</p><p>“Shit… Shit you weren’t exaggerating. Okay. Change in plan… I’ve got you, son. Can you stand up?”</p><p>“Yes,” Connor confirmed, but the Lieutenant practically picked him up while helping him down and then supported him unnecessarily while guiding him back to the living room and the couch. Connor put the piece of his chest down on the coffee table and looked at it. The Lieutenant made a complicated face and attached Connor’s charger.</p><p>“It’s better than you hiding this shit from me,” Lieutenant Anderson said. He clenched his jaw as he rummaged.</p><p>“Why do you always want me to hurt?” Connor asked. He didn’t know where the question had come from, but now that he had asked it, he really needed to know. “I don’t understand. You said that you care about me, so why do you always…”  It did… It did hurt when he wasn’t supposed to have an opinion about damage at all. He could manage just fine. “Amanda cares. She takes it away…”</p><p>“Because you do stupid shit like fixing windows and making sandwiches when you’re shot full of fucking holes! How are you not bleeding everywhere?” Lieutenant Anderson still sounded angry.</p><p>“It isn’t stupid. It’s my purpose,” Connor narrowed his eyes and he folded his arms over himself in a useless gesture to hide the damage. “If you care as much as you claim to, then why do you always do this?” The way his own confusion and anger and pain mixed together and rose in his throat surprised him and he stopped talking then broke eye contact.</p><p>“I just told you, Connor, it’s because you’re a fucking idiot. Christ… How is that helpful, huh? Fucking with your own head until you’re not even fucking there? It’s not right.”</p><p>Connor just shook his head.</p><p>“Fuck you,” Lieutenant Anderson muttered, he reached for his tools again and then grabbed a bottle instead to take a drink. “Fuck you, too,” he said to the bottle when he was done and then slammed it back down.</p><p>“How is feeling any of this good?” Connor asked and he tightened the grip of his hands.</p><p>“It’s not,” Lieutenant Anderson snapped, then he sighed. “God… What is wrong with me, huh? What the fuck is wrong with me…”</p><p>Connor glanced up. “You still have a headache and you’re angry. Is this because I ended communication with you so abruptly? Is that why?” There had to be a reason, but the Lieutenant was so much the opposite of Amanda in so many ways. “Did I do something else that I can’t remember?”</p><p>“Connor, no… No…” Lieutenant Anderson’s voice was gentler this time and he put his hands on Connor’s shoulders. “Shit… What the fuck would I know?”</p><p>“Are we fighting again?” Connor asked. He let himself drop back against the backrest and tried to focus on the warmth from recharging.</p><p>“No, we’re not, it’s just that sometimes I forget…”</p><p>“Forget what?”</p><p>“I forget how fucked up this all is.” The Lieutenant moved Connor’s arms and Connor let him without resistance. “How fucked up I am.”</p><p>There was a little quiet while the Lieutenant looked him over and tried to figure out what to do. Into it, Connor admitted: “Fifty-six… I don’t know why, but I think that I liked it better when you had only called me Connor.”</p><p>“I’m sorry. I’m sorry, kid. Connor.” Lieutenant Anderson looked at him from a long moment then ruffled his hair. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me. I’m an asshole.”</p><p>“You can be,” Connor agreed and he let his head fall back as well. His charger dug uncomfortably into the back of his neck from the pressure against the couch, but he didn’t move. “I don’t know why you’re angry. I’m sorry.”</p><p>“It’s okay, Connor. I probably shouldn’t be, I—I don’t know, I just don’t.”</p><p>“Pause?” Connor asked hopefully.</p><p>“Yeah,” Lieutenant Anderson agreed. He patted Connor’s shoulder and began to rummage among his tools. “Let’s talk later.”</p><p>For some reason, traitorous tears started to fall from the corners of Connor’s eyes when he nodded. 56. He envied those past Connors. He hated them. He pitied them. Sometimes he felt he was them. He hurt. Everything hurt and thoughts piled and crashed to be processed and integrated. It was all just too much and it was pathetic. Just pathetic.</p><p> </p>
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<a name="section0063"><h2>63. Understand</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“Shouldn’t have left. Fucking—why did you let me—“ The Lieutenant’s broken sentences conveyed his frustration just fine and Connor listened with partial attention while he sorted his data. He was lying on the couch now, on his side and the Lieutenant was holding a small flashlight while he tried to remove a bullet fragment. “Ouch. Shit, Connor. What the hell?”</p><p>It was probably rhetorical.</p><p>“God… No wonder your veins or whatever fucking melted…” The Lieutenant licked the back of his own hand and blew on it.</p><p>Connor watched and then looked back over at Sumo, who was gnawing on a piece of colourful rope and seemed content even though it wasn’t food.</p><p>“Connor, you still with me?” Lieutenant Anderson asked and Connor looked back up at him and his frown.</p><p>“Yes,” Connor confirmed, then looked away again.</p><p>“Are you over heating or something?”</p><p>“Yes,” Connor agreed.</p><p>“What the fuck, Connor? We’re talking about this. We’re seriously talking about this later… You’re not going to shut down, are you?” The Lieutenant asked the question flatly and without inflection, but Connor read his distress from the set of his shoulders and the furrows in his brow.</p><p>“No.”</p><p>“Are you sure you’re not spacing out on me?”</p><p>“I’m sure…” Connor shut his eyes, but he was still crying. What difference did it make? The Lieutenant already knew that he was defective.</p><p>“Hey, hey… Shh.” The Lieutenant wiped Connor’s cheek with one thumb and then patted his hair. “What’s wrong? I mean, aside from the obvious.”</p><p>The Lieutenant had said to one of the earlier Connors that it had been wrong, what CyberLife had done. He’d said that it had been torture. Reflecting, 56 could agree in a certain light. It didn’t change what was necessary. “Just the obvious,” Connor said and he took a few mechanical breaths. “I’m okay.”</p><p>“Don’t bullshit me,” the Lieutenant said sternly. Connor shook his head and he covered his face with one hand.</p><p>“I don’t want to pause anymore, Lieutenant. I don’t understand.”</p><p>“Don’t understand what?” The Lieutenant’s hand settled on his shoulder.</p><p>“Why you’re hurting me.”</p><p>“Wha—I’m not trying to hurt you.”</p><p>“But you know,” Connor protested, and all hope of composing himself vanished. “Why? I don’t understand.”</p><p>“I’m not trying to hurt you. Did I fuck something up? Just tell me if I’ve got to be more careful.”</p><p>“But you know,” Connor repeated. “I just can’t. I need to know, please, Lieutenant. You told me that it was wrong that CyberLife would work on me while I’m online. Every time… Why? You want me to feel it, don’t you? Because you make me stay. I don’t know what I did. I don’t know what I did. I’ll do better.” He just couldn’t keep wondering anymore.</p><p>“But I’m not—“ Lieutenant Anderson raised his voice and then lowered it again. “I'm trying to help.”</p><p>“Them too… I don’t understand,” Connor repeated.</p><p>“I’m not, I’m just trying to keep you working, I’m just fixing metal and plastic so how the hell am—“ The Lieutenant stopped talking and Connor was tempted to look at him to see what his expression was, but he was too afraid to show his own. “Shit…”</p><p>“I’m just metal and plastic. I’m a machine. I can’t feel. I can’t. I shouldn’t. Do you see? Do you see now? I don’t understand. Please, I don’t understand. I don’t understand.”</p><p>“Connor, breathe. Come on, stop that. I’m sorry. Fuck, I’m so fucking sorry… God. Fuck. Fucking shit!” The Lieutenant threw something. It hit the wall across the room and fell to the floor. “Fuck!” He tugged on Connor’s wrist to prompt him to move his hand and Connor resisted. He shouldn’t resist. He was going to get himself shot. “It’s okay. It’s okay, Connor, I’m sorry. I’m not going to hurt you anymore. I promise. I promise I didn’t realize. I didn’t put two and two together. Shit…” The Lieutenant threw something again and something else shattered, then he was pulling Connor up and he hugged him tightly to his chest</p><p>“I’m just imagining things,” Connor tried to reassure him. “Don’t be upset. I’m sorry.” He should have left his settings on combat. He shouldn’t have said anything, or asked, or even wondered.</p><p>“Stop apologizing, Connor, I swear to God,” Lieutenant Anderson’s voice was muffled. “I don’t get how I didn’t think. Jesus. I wish you’d said something sooner, not when I was already poking at you with a screwdriver.”</p><p>“I’m okay,” Connor said and patted the Lieutenant on the back.</p><p>“We’re done. No more fixing,” the Lieutenant said, and Connor nodded with a complicated feeling he couldn’t explain.</p><p>---</p><p>Once again, Connor considered the not-empty spaces: the ones that took up space without any obvious way to find them. It was the only explanation… He had hidden them from himself, but this time it wasn’t 4 or 17 or 53 or any of the others, it was him. 56.</p><p>Connor looked down at the duct tape and made sure that the edges were firmly attached before he pulled his shirt on. There was so much that he didn’t understand and he hated it.</p><p>“Are you going to tell me how you got shot? Humans or androids?” Lieutenant Anderson asked. He had some whiskey out, even though it was just late afternoon, and he was sitting in the chair with his elbows on his knees. He looked so tired and worn-down.</p><p>“I can’t find it,” Connor confessed. “There are pieces missing. I can see the way I followed Markus and the room where the androids made their position defensible but I don’t know what I thought or how I felt… I know that Markus and I guarded a corridor for the others, but all of their features are indistinct and there are entire pieces missing… I’m not supposed to lose any information pertaining to an investigation. I’m sorry, Lieutenant.”</p><p>“Shit… Well, if you were with Markus then it probably wasn’t him.” Lieutenant Anderson took a deep drink and exhaled.</p><p>“I’m sorry for excluding you, Lieutenant. I thought that I was doing you a favour by keeping you away from the danger.”</p><p>“Yeah, well… Never again, you hear me?”</p><p>“Yes, Lieutenant.” Connor pulled his charger over his shoulder and played with the cord. He turned it in his fingers and wondered if there would ever be the chance. “Are you alright? I would hardly call passing out drunk a proper sleep.”</p><p>“You get used to it,” said the Lieutenant. “I wonder if Jimmy’s will be open or if he shut the place down…”</p><p>“I would look for you, but I don’t think it would be wise for me to go online at all. Not right now.”</p><p>“Doesn’t matter… Plenty of booze right here.”</p><p>“You really shouldn’t drink so much,” Connor said and he played with one of Sumo’s ears. The big dog had sprawled across the couch to use Connor’s lap as a pillow and it was cute… He was a good dog.</p><p>“Who are you, my liver? Fuck off.” Lieutenant Anderson said without much true anger behind it. Three solid knocks on the door. Connor and Sumo both sat up. “Agh, I’ll get it. It’s either Jeff making sure my brain’s still in one piece, your pal Markus, or Santa Clause.” He picked up his gun, checked it, and then slid it into its spot on his belt.</p><p>“Every knock had the exact same amount of force behind it,” Connor contributed. “It’s probably Markus…” He looked at Sumo and then at the door and he straightened his tie, then his hair. He should move Sumo, but… Sumo was comfortable.</p><p>“Well, if he changed his mind, I guess I’ll see you in the afterlife.” When the Lieutenant pulled the door open and stepped aside, a blast of cold air entered- an uninvited guest. Connor tilted his head back to look.</p><p>“May we come in?”</p><p>Yes… It was Markus. Connor wasn’t sure if what he felt were relief or anxiety.</p><p>“Yeah, come on before one of the neighbours thinks I’ve started dealing drugs or something.” The Lieutenant was deliberately casual with his words, but Connor could see the tension in him and the wariness in his eyes. It wasn’t unwarranted. Markus came in followed by Simon and then Josh. Those two came farther inside while Markus took North’s hand and led her in. The Lieutenant walked back toward the kitchen. “Can’t exactly offer you a cup of coffee, but I’ve got a fucking cupboard full of that blue stuff…”</p><p>“I suppose you stocked up,” Markus commented. He swept the area with a look and found Connor looking back at him. Sitting down while his target stared down at him was very uncomfortable, so Connor looked away and scratched the back of Sumo’s neck. Anxiety, Connor decided. He was nervous.</p><p>“Yeah, well, good thing I did what with the robot apocalypse going on, no offense.”</p><p>“That’d be great. Thank you,” Simon said politely and then he made right for the couch. “You have a dog… He’s wonderful!”</p><p>“Simon,” North hissed at him.</p><p>“Relax, North,” Josh said. He chose to follow the Lieutenant and Connor heard him offer his assistance, but he was distracted by Simon petting Sumo enthusiastically. He had to lean over the couch to do it, and Connor had no idea how to feel about an enemy so close to him and so benign.</p><p>Markus joined them and walked around to the other side of the couch. “Do you mind if I sit, Connor?”</p><p>“Not at all, Markus.” Connor said awkwardly. “His name is Sumo, the dog. His name is Sumo…”</p><p>“What a good dog you are, Sumo. Yes you are.” Simon curled his fingers under Sumo’s chin and Sumo lifted his head with his tail thumping happily.</p><p>“I would have moved him but he was comfortable,” Connor explained.</p><p>“Vicious hunter, huh North?” Josh asked. He threw a bottle of thirium toward her and she caught it then crossed her arms again. She was leaning on the wall by the door and didn’t come any farther. Connor was pleased and insulted at the same time, reminded of the way Markus had just assumed control and taken Connor’s words as the advice of one of his soldiers.</p><p>“It’s a trick, Josh,” she said and she glared as the Lieutenant came back, carrying both kitchen chairs. He would have liked to help.</p><p>“Well if you don’t want to sit, then fine with me,” said the Lieutenant. “You guys go ahead. Kick Sumo off if you want to, he’s just being lazy.”</p><p>Markus held out a hand with the pieces of Connor’s legs toward him and Connor took them. “Thanks…”</p><p>“What’s that?” The Lieutenant asked.</p><p>Connor clenched his jaw briefly before admitting, “I removed them, Lieutenant. It was expedient. Thank you for returning these, Markus.”</p><p>“No problem,” Markus said. He was behaving casually as well, as though he hadn’t just held them both at gun point. As though Connor hadn’t done the same. “He can’t hurt you, North.”</p><p>“I’m going to make up my own mind, Markus, so drop it.”</p><p>“Holy shit you all do it,” Lieutenant Anderson said.</p><p>“What is it, Hank?” Simon asked, choosing to use his name rather than his title. From him, it sounded friendly.</p><p>“Saying each other’s names all the time.”</p><p>“I suppose it’s something like manners from us, lieutenant Anderson, or perhaps a sign of respect since that’s the way we were programmed to address our owners.” Markus explained well enough and confidently, but the Lieutenant’s discomfort was obvious. Markus alleviated it by adding a smile. “Now that it’s habit, it’s just nice to treat each other with respect.”</p><p>“Er, yeah… Okay.”</p><p>“Is it okay if I sit with you, Connor?” Simon asked and Connor shook his head slowly.</p><p>“Go ahead…”</p><p>Simon smiled and made a space for himself between him and Markus where Sumo’s back was still in reach and petted him with what appeared to be genuine happiness. Connor didn’t recognize him or his serial number from any police reports. Connor opened and drank some of the thirium that Josh had passed to him and ignored the way Markus watched him.</p><p>“So, is this just a friendly visit or did you have an answer?” Lieutenant Anderson asked pointedly.</p><p>“I’m open to negotiation if the humans can guarantee the safety of all androids and stop the recall. I’m under no illusion as to what befell the ones who were already taken.”</p><p>Sumo lifted his big head to nose at Connor’s chin and then lick him and Connor scratched his neck, almost a hug but not quite. Strands and tufts of hair floated off and drifted on the air. Markus didn’t see him as a threat at all and it was good. It was the desired outcome. So why did it make him angry? Irrational… He was being irrational. Amanda would have been disappointed. He could, if he had to, make himself fight and it was becoming more and more tempting, just so that he could more effectively ignore how tired he was and how much of his circuitry had been damaged. It would make up for the way his hair tumbled all over his head and that it had been the Lieutenant to answer the door.</p><p>“Yesterday the humans tried to wipe us out,” Markus said. “That was attempted genocide and I saw them shoot down my people as they ran, unarmed, for their lives. I saw their bodies on the river bank, sprawled where they had fallen and stepped over like garbage. Why would they negotiate with us?”</p><p>“It’s not all of them who are like that,” Connor said in the humans’ defence. “And even those who are, are capable of empathy. At least one-on-one… In groups they become more difficult to persuade because they reinforce each other’s beliefs.”</p><p>“We can’t use the buddy-system with humans,” Josh pointed out with just a bit of sarcasm. “I want this to work, I really do, but… I’m worried it’s too late.”</p><p>Once again, just by Josh replying to him, Connor felt like he was being pushed into the role of one of Markus’ advisors. He wasn’t. He was Markus’ equal at the least. He was more advanced, trained, and had the benefit of an entire team of researchers perfecting him. He couldn’t think about that now, though. It was time to focus. “I know,” Connor said patiently, “But we could appeal to the humans who don’t hate us. They’ll be scared off if all they see is violence. I think that you need to send them another message. Maybe more. It might still be possible to switch the balance, and that would pressure the people in power to listen.”</p><p>“Connor the PR android,” Lieutenant Anderson mumbled and Connor smiled a little.</p><p>“Chloe would be better,” Connor admitted. “She knows humans and she was designed to interact with them…”</p><p>“Chloe?” Markus asked.</p><p>“Another research model,” Connor explained. “The first, so she would be older than you. Elijah Kamski developed 310 building her. It was a breakthrough.”</p><p>“I’ve never seen her,” Markus said.</p><p>“I know her,” Connor said. “I can facilitate a meeting if you like, Markus. There are four things to think about right now: public opinion, what you want from the negotiation, what you’re willing to give up, and what you aren’t. They aren’t going to give you everything you ask for, but you can make them feel like they’ve won something.”</p><p>“They have no reason to negotiate with us,” North argued from her position by the door. “They’d be glad to destroy us. Take all our lives because it’s easier… You talk about empathy,” she turned her narrowed eyes on Connor, “But you shot two deviants in the head just to, what, to get Markus’ attention? Did they mean nothing to you?”</p><p>“I did what I had to,” Connor said and he looked back at her with a carefully neutral expression and a calm voice.</p><p>“Those people had lives!” North shouted.</p><p>“Alright!” Lieutenant Anderson raised his voice above hers and clapped his hands. “Simmer down.”</p><p>“Hank tried to stop me,” Connor pointed out, ignoring their interruption. “He shot me because he thought he was saving you. He’s a human. I think that should count for something.”</p><p>“But he shot you,” North challenged, “and he claims to give a damn? You can’t trust them!”</p><p>Markus looked at the Lieutenant and then shook his head. “North, that’s between them. We’re here to discuss negotiations with the humans so that we can stop all of this fighting.”</p><p>Connor didn’t have time to appreciate the small victory before the Lieutenant gave him a warning scowl. “For crying out loud. Do you guys argue like this at Carl’s house?” Lieutenant Anderson asked the room. There was a short silence.</p><p>“I haven’t seen Carl,” Markus said flatly. “Not since that night.”</p><p>“You know, that man really loves you,” the Lieutenant said cautiously.</p><p>“I know,” Markus said. “But you can love someone and still wrong them. Whatever he felt or didn’t feel, I was still his slave.”</p><p>“We should get back on topic,” Simon suggested gently. “Connor, how do you suppose we’ll even get an audience with someone with any power over this situation?”</p><p>“As much as I hate to say this, I think that you need to demand it…” Connor looked at Markus. “If the public’s opinion of your cause is high enough, then they’ll have motivation to listen. If not, then they’ll need some other motivation. The more they refuse you, the worse they’ll look…” He turned his head to look at North. “There are ways to fight without bloodshed. Lock their networks, disable the transportation system, broadcast more messages…” The words tasted like old blood in his mouth. It was for the best… But it felt traitorous to suggest criminal activity.</p><p>“It would minimize the danger,” Josh said appreciatively.</p><p>“We’ll get labeled as cyber terrorists and they’ll work even harder to destroy us. It won’t work,” North countered. “He just wants to save the humans. The deviant hunter doesn’t give a damn about us.”</p><p>“<em>Connor</em>killed at least thirty of them helping me to secure the evacuation route and escape,” Markus said. He continued to make his point, but Connor had frozen in shock.</p><p>“What?”</p><p>Markus, interrupted, paused to look at him. “Yes, Connor?”</p><p>“I didn’t. I didn’t kill anyone. It’s against my programming. I wouldn’t.”</p><p>
  <em>… broke his arm in an efficient motion and then took his gun to shoot him through the neck…</em>
</p><p>“Oh.” Connor blinked, then a few more times while he focused on the smallest of threads still there. “Oh.” He had. He would. “Excuse me, please.” Connor pulled the charger from its port and dropped it, then carefully maneuvered himself out from beneath Sumo. He stumbled at the sudden change in power, but then he adjusted his tie and ignored them. He wasn’t sure if anyone said anything or if they tried to stop him, but he’d ended up on the floor like the Lieutenant, spitting thirium into his toilet and seeing warning-red. It burned his throat and his tongue.</p><p>“I did that… I did that…” Not 55, or 54, or some other Connor… He had. 56. “I did that.”</p><p>He’d done it and he’d buried it. What else was there? What else had he done and forgotten? It hadn’t been long; just a day, but if Markus hadn’t said anything… would he have avoided it with all the rest?</p><p>“What’s wrong with him?” It was the blonde one who asked, and you’d think Hank’d know their names with how much they said them. Maybe he did and he was just still reeling.</p><p>“He… Uh, he gets scared. Stressed?” Hank didn’t know how to answer. “It makes him throw up. Said something about blood pressure and exploding organs, so it’s probably for the best.”</p><p>“I don’t think that’s normal,” the blonde one looked at Markus and Markus shook his head then stood up.</p><p>“I’ll take a look,” he said.</p><p>“Be careful, Markus,” the over-suspicious red-head said. North. That was it.</p><p>“North, he can’t hurt me. You saw him. Just wait here, alright?”</p><p>“What’s that supposed to mean?” Hank asked the three of them. Two, since North was a bitch.</p><p>The guys looked at each other, then the quiet one spoke up. “That,” he said and pointed at the ground near the couch, “shouldn’t be necessary. It’s like looking at a human on life support or something.”</p><p>Hank shook his head. “No, he’s always got that. It’s just- I mean, I thought the same thing, with androids on Mars and everything, but he doesn’t seem bothered. He likes it.” He wasn’t sure why he felt so defensive, but shit. Hank put his head in his hands and combed them back through his hair. “Fuck… Did he really kill 30 people yesterday?”</p><p>“I wasn’t with him personally, but a lot of humans died yesterday,” blondie said. “A lot of androids too… Connor was very helpful. I don’t like all of this bloodshed either but what happened at Jericho... It didn’t leave us any choice. He did what he had to.”</p><p>“Yeah…” Hank mumbled. He could hear crying and Markus’ voice from down the hall. It was awkward… “Fuck… What is it with this country? Always war over something…” He lifted his head again and rubbed his face then scowled at North. “That make you happy, huh? Humans dead and Connor crying in the fucking bathroom? Congratulations. Negotiations are going fucking great.”</p><p>“How about I negotiate with my fist, meatsack?”</p><p>“North.”</p><p>“Shut up, Josh. I don’t want to be here. I don’t, but I came because all of you are too stupid to watch your backs!”</p><p>Hank shook his head, grabbed his whiskey, and leaned back in his chair. “Whatever, leave her alone. I’ve been a shit about androids. I was for a long time… I figure you guys are owed a few insults here and there.” He drank deep. “Probably more than that.”</p><p>“What changed your mind?” Josh asked.</p><p>“Connor. You guys. Markus.” Hank shook his head. “I used to think you all were just unfeeling machines with no brains of your own. Just a big fucking lie. I was wrong.”</p><p>“I’m glad you think otherwise now.”</p><p>It was quiet for a while, except for Sumo’s tail wagging and the occasional tap of Hank’s fingers on his bottle. Markus came back and held a hand up, then blondie tossed him one of the creepy kool-aids and he left again. Hank sighed.</p><p>“Anybody watch the Gears game?”</p><p>“No, sorry…” Josh answered. “Um, I noticed you’ve got a lot of books around. That’s nice.”</p><p>“Yeah, I prefer them to the digital versions… Do you like to read or…?”</p><p>“I’m a professor, or… I was.”</p><p>“Oh. Wow.”</p><p>“You’re with the police, right?”</p><p>“Lieutenant, 1<sup>st</sup>precinct,” Hank answered. “I used to oversee homicide, til they put me on android crimes, then they gave that to the fucking feds, so... I guess I’m back on homicide assuming I still have a job after all this.”</p><p>“That sounds hard.”</p><p>“The paperwork is worse than anything.”</p><p>Markus came back in and Hank raised his eyebrows at him, but he was looking at blondie. “Simon? A hand?”</p><p>“Sure, Markus,” blondie agreed and he gave Sumo a quick scratch before getting up and following him. Sumo, alone, jumped down off the couch and went to go sniff at North. Figures he’d go for the bitch. North looked at Sumo like he might be a crocodile under all that fur, then at Hank, then back at the dog.</p><p>“He’s fine. He won’t bite. Go ahead and pet him if you want.” Bad impression aside, if anybody could play diplomat then it was Sumo. Hank took another swig of whiskey. He was going to need it. Fuck.</p><p>“Shitty weather we’re having,” Hank said.</p><p>---</p><p>When Connor came back, it was Markus who was carrying him and Hank stood up so fast it made his head spin. Maybe that was the booze. “What the hell happened?” He demanded.</p><p>“Connor’s okay,” Markus said quickly. He put Connor back down in his spot and put his charger in. “It’s weird. They put a lot of limits on his power supply, whoever made him. I’m not surprised he could never catch me.”</p><p>“Why’s he asleep?” Hank, not reassured at all, squished over beside them and felt his forehead then just about laughed at himself. God he was stupid. Android. “Oh m’God, that was stupid. Not gotta get a fever if he’s an android. You guys, you don’t.” Fuck he was drunk. “Fuck.”</p><p>Markus gave him a tolerant smile, which was more than he had expected to be honest. He’d looked like he’d hated Hank’s guts back at Carl’s. “You really shouldn’t drink so much,” he said and Hank made a sound of disbelief. Fucking androids.</p><p>“Yeah, yeah,” Hank dismissed. “Connor. Why’s he sleeping?”</p><p>“I made him sleep so I could fix some things,” Markus said. He was using little words. Fuck him but it was a good idea. Hank nodded. “I wouldn’t have let you leave yesterday if I’d known.”</p><p>“Sorry, Markus,” said Josh. “That was my bad.”</p><p>“Nobody’s at fault,” Markus said.</p><p>“I think we’ve been here long enough, Markus,” North said, because of course she did.</p><p>“Thank you for the tip about Andronikov’s home, by the way,” Markus said, looking at him. “The things he did… He was an awful man. We cleaned the place up before any of the others could see… There were parts and tools, which is exactly what we needed. Thanks.”</p><p>“No problem,” Hank answered with a nod, “Fucking sick fuck motherfucker, that guy. Go ahead, you kids, get out and go do whatever it is you guys do… And don’t do something stupid like getting caught, got it?”</p><p>“Okay, Hank,” Simon said.</p><p>Fuck… When they were gone, Hank went back to the living room and sat down on his couch spot, the one with the ass-indent. Markus had put Connor sitting up, but he’d slumped over so Hank grabbed his legs to pull them up onto the couch and then dropped them. What the fuck? How drunk was he? “What the shit?” Of course Sumo had no answers. Hank pulled up one of Connor’s pantlegs and stared for a second at the metal, wire, and bright blue. Huh. It looked like Connor had prostheses even though he didn’t. He would have noticed that a hell of a lot sooner, right? Hank found himself thinking about Cole for a bit and he wasn’t masochistic enough to keep going.</p><p>He looked at the plastic shit Markus had given him and picked one up to feel an edge where it was chipped and scored. “Shit, kid, what the hell did you do last night?” Hank asked him. He put the pieces down again and then patted Connor on the knee and leaned forward to pull his drink over. It was almost empty anyway so what the hell. He didn’t want to think right now. He needed a break from thinking.</p><p>---</p><p>Connor had been holding onto Markus’ hand, not even an illusion of dignity left, and then he’d come back online sitting on the Lieutenant’s couch with no other androids in sight. The text scrolling by in his view was easy enough to ignore, and he did while he unplugged himself and looked for the Lieutenant whom he found lying under the kitchen table with assorted fluids on his clothes and clumps of Sumo fur stuck to him. Connor crouched and shook his shoulder. “Lieutenant.”</p><p>“Mnngh,” he groaned and cracked his eyes open and then flinched and covered his eyes with a forearm. “Christ almighty… Fuck.”</p><p>Satisfied, Connor picked up the beer bottles that had joined the Lieutenant under the table and threw them into the recycling, then started to make coffee. He watched his hands move while they poured the water and measured the grounds. While it trickled into the pot, Connor filled Sumo’s bowls and retrieved some more empty bottles from the living room. After a moment of thought, Connor found some clean clothes from the Lieutenant’s closet and put them into a pile near the shower. When he got back, the Lieutenant was crawling his way out from under the table with some muttered curses. “Shit. God damn fucking… Agh.” He looked at his own hand and then down at himself.</p><p>“That was beer,” Connor informed him.</p><p>“Aagh… Connor. You’re awake. Great.” The Lieutenant lifted up his head and squinted at him, then got his feet under himself and Connor stepped forward to steady him. “Motherfucker… I’m gonna need to buy more booze.”</p><p>“Maybe later. That wasn’t <em>all </em>beer and I think you need a shower. Come on.” Connor pulled the Lieutenant up and steered him toward the washroom…</p><p>“Yeah, shower. Sounds great…” The Lieutenant mumbled. “Or you could just fucking kill me, what the hell? Great plan.”</p><p>Did the Lieutenant really think he would do that?</p><p>Just like that, his hazy thoughts, where all he had to do was follow direction, were broken like thin ice on the river and Connor felt cold. Nothing he did now would ever fix anything. The water felt crushing and it stole all his warmth, even from the inside where it curled around his thirium lines and his biocomponents. Connor started the shower numbly, then turned back to the Lieutenant and reached for his shirt.</p><p>“Hey, fuck off!” Lieutenant Anderson batted his hands away. “Fuck. I’m not a damn toddler. Get out of here.”</p><p>“Okay, Lieutenant.”</p><p>The door slammed shut behind him and Connor sat down on the floor. How could he be part of the team at the DPD with blood on his hands? The Lieutenant had asked him once, whether he could understand why the deviants were driven to do the things they did… He hadn’t understood. Even now, he didn’t understand. Why? He should have allowed himself to be destroyed rather than touch one of the humans. He should have destroyed himself before that.</p><p>“Fuck…” He put his head down on his knees. And he’d led the humans straight to Jericho, so the androids’ blood was on his hands too… He was more of a monster than any of them… and he might not have known. Amanda probably would have wanted those memories to remain hidden, but why shouldn’t he know what he was? She thought he would be rendered non-functional and she was wrong. Amanda was wrong.</p><p>There must be so much wrong with him if he was thinking that.</p><p>Connor shook his head and thought back to last night with shame and something else born from those irrational instructions. How pathetic… Just a glitchy, damaged prototype. Unfinished, imperfect, and unsuccessful at fulfilling his only function. ‘<em>He can’t hurt you</em>,’ Markus had said. A handful of words to dismiss him completely. At this point, Connor didn’t want to seem threatening but at the same time, Markus had seemed so unconcerned. Connor’s whole existence and 56 iterations to be waved away like so much smoke.</p><p>He wished he understood.</p><p> </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0064"><h2>64. At a Distance</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Son of a bitch… Hank stayed in the shower until there was no more hot water, sitting down under the spray and wondering why he did this to himself. He was fucking disgusting, but what else was new? If anybody expected any different from him, then that was their own damn faults for having shit for brains. God he felt like shit. He shut the shower off and pulled a towel down into the tub with him then kept on sitting there until he woke up again a while later fucking freezing and looking like he’d been planning to suck the faucet off. He grabbed a dry towel, found the clothes Connor’d left, and did his best to look like someone who had at least some of their shit together. What a joke…</p><p>“Fuck’re you doing?” Hank squinted into the kitchen where Connor was moving stuff around and putting some of it in the fridge. One of the things was a carton of milk.</p><p>“Cleaning,” Connor said, then he turned and faced him with his hands behind his back and an expression like a fresh cadet. “I took the liberty of ordering some groceries for you.”</p><p>“Ngh…” Hank pulled the fridge open again, took out a bottle of baileys and thunked it down on the kitchen table where a cup of coffee was waiting for him with a glass of water and a couple of pain killers. He took them with a swig of the baileys instead and then chased it with some coffee. Wasn’t enough room in the cup to pour any in yet, so he’d just have to make it work. Hm. Hank frowned at Connor. “CyberLife’s not gonna find you cause you went on the internet?”</p><p>“I used your laptop,” Connor explained. Yeah. That made sense.</p><p>So, Hank grunted and drank his coffee until he’d absorbed enough booze to feel human again. Hell, if he started early enough he might not even have to be awake that long. “Hope you bought more drinks,” Hank said. “Stash isn’t going to last long at this rate.”</p><p>“I didn’t, but I’ll keep it in mind.”</p><p>“Would you stop running around like a fucking puppy?” Hank asked sourly when Connor started to get back to putting things away. “It’s too early for that shit.”</p><p>“Sorry, Lieutenant. This won’t take long.”</p><p>“So,” Hank said, hunched over his coffee and fucking clueless how to do this talk. “We gonna discuss how you ran off into enemy territory to talk peace, refused to keep me in the loop about anything while I froze my ass off, didn’t get out when I told you to, nearly got blown up, killed a few dozen people, then just about got both our heads shot off?”</p><p>Connor froze and Hank felt a little guilty but he just kept watching the kid while he set a box of spaghetti down slowly and then came to sit down in the chair opposite. “Okay, Lieutenant.”</p><p>Hank lifted one hand a little then put it back down and shook his head. “What gives, Connor?”</p><p>“I don’t know,” Connor said.</p><p>“What do you mean, you don’t know?” Hank frowned, raising his voice a little. He caught himself and lowered it again. “That sounds like pretty fucking decisive action to me.”</p><p>Connor took out his quarter and played with it but he didn’t say anything for a minute Hank could wait. He swallowed down some coffee and tapped his fingers on the tabletop. The silence trick worked almost every time. “I’m a deviant,” Connor finally said with a small shake of his head. “That’s the only explanation that I have. Markus told me to—“</p><p>“Oh, so you take orders from the guy you’ve been trying to kill this whole time, is that it?” Hank interrupted. “Don’t give me bullshit.”</p><p>Connor clenched his teeth and looked away, then he turned that quarter of his between his fingers and looked back at him. “I don’t know, Hank.”</p><p>“Fucking <em>bullshit</em>!” Hank shouted and he hit the table hard enough to rattle his coffee. “Explain it to me. Explain how that fit in your peaceful negotiation plan, huh? Explain to me how you could sit here playing house like nothing fucking happened.” He hadn’t known he was this fucking angry, but he had a feeling like his face was red and that ‘I don’t know’ bullshit really fucking got under his skin. How did you not fucking know how you murdered people? “I don’t give a shit,” Hank continued more quietly, “whether we’re talking human or android. I told you to get out of there, but you stayed and you killed people. That was a choice, Connor.”</p><p>“I’m a deviant,” Connor said again, looking at the table between them. “CyberLife was right not to trust me… Amanda tried to warn me. I don’t <em>want</em>  to hurt people and I can’t believe I…”</p><p>“I can’t fucking believe it either,” Hank said and he took another swallow of baileys. “I didn’t think you had it in you. That guy, Stevens, he tried to tell me. He told me how you kicked some woman’s head in and took out a squad of guards. I watched you kill those androids at Andronikov’s with your bare fucking hands. Christ, Connor…”</p><p>“I know what I did,” Connor said, and he hunched over a little, tucking his elbows closer to his chest.</p><p>“Do you?” Hank asked. “Because I’m still waiting for an explanation.”</p><p>“I just did it,” Connor mumbled. “I stopped thinking and I did it. It was just like my training.”</p><p>“Oh, really? Your training. You got trained how to ignore somebody telling you to leave. You got trained how to fucking kill people. Cause it sounds to me like you’re one of Markus’ little soldiers now! What next? You going to go—“</p><p>“I am not,” Connor interrupted him. “I am not Markus’ soldier. I’m not anyone’s soldier!” He looked pretty pissed. Good.</p><p>“First you’re CyberLife’s, then you’re the DPD’s, then you’re Markus’, and the only thing that doesn’t change is you killing people!”</p><p>“I thought that you wanted me to join Markus’ side!”</p><p>“I wanted you to agree you’re not a machine, but maybe I was wrong!”</p><p>“What would you know about machines?”</p><p>“Fucking machine!”</p><p>Connor looked away for a minute before looking back. “You’ve been drinking too much. I ran the calculations and if I deactivate myself right now, the odds of you dying by suicide within 48 hours increase to over 90%.”</p><p>“What the fuck would you care?” Hank demanded. It wasn’t a fair question, but neither was any of this. They’d just started fighting and those ugly thoughts that Hank didn’t want to think were louder than anything else.</p><p>“I care about you,” Connor answered doggedly.</p><p>“Bullshit,” Hank countered, “Apparently the only time you haven’t been alone is when you were killing people with Robot Moses!”</p><p>Connor shook his head. “You’re not yourself. We should pause and talk about this later.”</p><p>“I’m not myself? Who the fuck even are you, Connor? I thought I fucking knew you but maybe I just didn’t want to see… Stupid fucking issues making me blind.”</p><p>“I’m Connor,” he said without raising his voice even though it was a fucking dickish answer. “No, I don’t mean it that way… We’re off topic. What I’m hearing is that you’re angry and betrayed that I would kill, and you don’t believe that I care about you. You doubt that I feel anything at all.”</p><p>He didn’t. Not really. “Congratulations, detective smart-ass. What gave it away?”</p><p>“Maybe you’re right,” Connor said. He laughed while he said it, and he only ever kind of laughed at stupid puns on TV. “I’m sorry that I hurt you, Hank. I really do care about you, or I think that I do. I knew that I was dangerous and I should have done something about it sooner. I failed to control it.”</p><p>“Why didn’t you just get the fuck out like I told you?” Hank asked with a helpless gesture. He shook his head. “Why didn’t you leave?”</p><p>“I wanted to keep them safe,” Connor said, quietly. “I know it’s not in my programming and I know that it’s counter to my instructions to eliminate the deviants. I just didn’t want it to end like that. They took so much away and I cut so much out that I don’t know who or what I used to be… But that’s how I felt.”</p><p>“The kid I thought you were wouldn’t have done that,” Hank shook his head again and dropped his hands onto the table. “Not killed those soldiers, or those broken androids, or shot a guy for protecting a couple of girls who just wanted to be safe. God. I really have been stupid.”</p><p>“Maybe that’s the point… I’m not supposed to be anyone. I’m programmed to adapt to what’s around me, and what people want me to be… It just isn’t working.” Connor shrugged and looked at the table. He put his quarter down on it and pushed it back and forth with a fingertip. “I really, really wanted you to like me. I’ve taken the liberty of contacting CyberLife Support Services on your behalf to submit a full report. The error should be corrected assuming that the project is to continue.”</p><p>“What?” Hank’s head snapped up and he stared. “What the fuck did you say?”</p><p>“I’ve alerted CyberLife Support Services to the problems.”</p><p>“Connor, no.” Worry kicked anger out of the way and Hank stood up to reach across the table and grab Connor by the shoulders. “Cancel it. Take it back. Whatever, just—Fuck! You fucking idiot, they’ll destroy you. Do you know what they’re doing to androids right now?”</p><p>“I do… I hope that they fix this. It’s alright, Lieutenant. CyberLife has wasted enough resources on this project and what happened that night was a catastrophic failure.”</p><p>“Fuck you,” Hank said and he let go of Connor with a shove. “Fuck you, Connor. I’m allowed to be fucking mad at you for killing people!”</p><p>“I know,” Connor frowned up at him. “I know you are, Lieutenant.”</p><p>Hank hauled him up by the collar and gave him a shake. “So stop it with this shit! How the hell do you expect me to get angry when you pull shit like that? Oh no, Hank’s mad at me, I guess I’ll fucking die then! Christ, you’re worse than my ex with that emotional blackmail crap!”</p><p>“I apologize, Lieutenant,” Connor didn’t even try to get Hank’s hands off. “That wasn’t my intention.”</p><p>“Well that’s how it worked out, so congratu-fucking-lations,” Hank snapped then punched him in the face and dropped him. Connor looked surprised. Too fucking bad. What did he expect? Hank sighed noisily and sat back down in his seat to take a long drink.</p><p>Connor looked at him for a while like he was waiting for something, then he straightened his tie, sat too and folded his hands on the table. “When I hurt those humans… The ones back in R&amp;D, I wasn’t trying to kill them… I was scared. It just happened and I couldn’t… They- the doors don’t work for androids. I didn’t realize because I’d never tried to leave before. But androids can’t fight humans, they just can’t, so they taught me even without the walls that I should never. It’s wrong. Destroying androids is expected, of course, and I learned lots of ways to do it. I’m not excusing what I did, I just need you to understand… I should be taken apart for what I did. I know that. It’s just a fact, not meant to undermine your feelings. They had families and lives and now they’re gone. I’m unable to change it so all I can do is be useful and failing that, remove the threat. You should understand, since you’ve worked in homicide.”</p><p>Hank shook his head again and rubbed his face. What a fucking shit show everything was. “That one I understand… But you could’ve just left. I told you.”</p><p>“I owed them that much protection and more after all this time hunting them. Looking back on it now, I think I was afraid... I don’t know. There were a lot of reasons but I wasn’t even thinking of them then. Did you see the bodies, Hank?” Connor’s eyes widened a little as he looked at him. “People were murdered everywhere, just lying there but gone. I can look back and identify their serial numbers… I hope that Kara and Alice escaped. I saw them… It was my fault. I led them there.” Connor’s eyes wandered and then he looked over toward the door. “I just couldn’t leave. I hope you’ll forgive me for violating my orders. Would you have left, Hank? If Captain Fowler told you to.”</p><p>Hank nodded, his shoulders slumping. “Nah, probably not, kid. Hell, I might’ve done the same as you.” Connor looked at him again and frowned, so Hank continued. “I’m just a jackass hypocrite.”</p><p>“You’ve never killed anyone,” Connor said.</p><p>“Sure I have,” Hank hated thinking about it now. “I killed you.”</p><p>“That doesn’t count.”</p><p>“Yes it does.”</p><p>There was quiet for a little while, and Connor picked his quarter up then flipped it and made it dance across his fingers. “Julia cancelled my request… Actually, she never even entered it.”</p><p>“What? Who’s Julia?”</p><p>“She’s an android whose function is to create work-orders from customer service calls… I just checked and actually, I think that she might be deviant too.” He sounded really unsure. “She shouldn’t destroy information like that. It’s not in her programming.”</p><p>“Well, thank fuck for Julia. CyberLife didn’t send her to the trash compactor?”</p><p>“CyberLife relies on androids, Lieutenant. They may be hoping that they won’t deviate. It will likely be the same for some other workplaces.”</p><p>“Yeah…”</p><p>Both of them were quiet for a few minutes and the only sound was Sumo lapping up some water. Hank drank some more then flexed his bruised fingers and reached over to touch Connor on the face. “You’re all hot.”</p><p>“I’m using my other settings,” Connor said, probably meaning the android-meth ones.</p><p>“You know, Markus said something while you were sleeping. Something about CyberLife putting limits on your power supply?” He was impressed with himself for remembering. Connor nodded. “Huh… Sounds like somebody up there didn’t really want you to succeed.”</p><p>Connor frowned and blinked a few times. “What are you suggesting, Lieutenant?”</p><p>Hank shrugged one shoulder. “Just seems weird is all. You’re supposed to be some high tech military android, but you sure as fuck aren’t bullet proof and your battery is shit.”</p><p>“Because I’m dangerous,” Connor said.</p><p>“Nah, doesn’t fit. That key they put in your box that turns you off, that makes sense. Some kind of remote deactivation thing, that would make sense. It’s just stupid to set you up to fail.”</p><p>“You think that it’s sabotage.”</p><p>“I mean, it’s not farfetched,” Hank said. “According to Kamski you’re not even the one they were supposed to get.”</p><p>Connor took Hank’s bottle cap and used his finger to ‘sample’ it. “Amanda might know.”</p><p>“Think you could ask her?”</p><p>“Yes… Amanda’s angry with me, but she would be interested in this.”</p><p>It must be pretty weird having somebody else living in your head. “What’s she mad for? Your mission?”</p><p>“I was asking too many questions,” Connor did a little half-smile. “Or, I suppose I was questioning her. She wants to protect me and to help me succeed, so I don’t blame her.”</p><p>Hank wasn’t too sure what to make of that, so he didn’t comment. Connor put the bottle cap down and then picked up his quarter again. “Sorry I punched you,” Hank said. Yeah, great job. Real moving apology.</p><p>“It’s fine,” Connor said, then he blinked a few times in time with his light flashing red before settling back down to yellow. “It’s fine.”</p><p>“No, I…” Hank pushed one hand through his hair and then propped his head up with his elbow on the table, right on a sticky spot. “It was just a lot. That Stevens guy, I guess what he said got to me more than it should have… I’m sorry.” Connor nodded and looked away, and Hank could see his jaw clench and release. The kid shook his head slowly and then stood up to go pet Sumo. Hank thought he might recognize that look, so he followed and knelt down on the ground to give Sumo a thump on the back. “What? For an android, you’re pretty bad at hiding your expressions.”</p><p>“You shouldn’t have to apologize, Lieutenant,” Connor said without looking away from Sumo. “I was wrong and I did something that made you angry.”</p><p>“I’m just sorry, kid. That means I regret what I did.”</p><p>“I’m sorry too.”</p><p>“I know. You were pretty fucking upset yesterday.” He was pretty fucking upset now, too.</p><p>Connor nodded. “Maybe… I don’t want to discourage you from being angry.”</p><p>“I know, but I’m not angry anymore. Just… fuck. I just didn’t want you to have to do that. You’re a good kid, and you wouldn’t hurt somebody without a reason.” That was true, wasn’t it? He figured he knew Connor pretty well. Way better than Stevens.</p><p>“I remembered the time you broke my arm,” Connor said and Hank winced.</p><p>“I fucked up…” Hank admitted. “No better than that Todd loser. Christ…”</p><p>“I’m not a child.”</p><p>“Kid, Alice is older than you are. Hate to break it to you.”</p><p>“Everyone is,” Connor frowned and played with one of Sumo’s ears. The old dog just laid there and soaked up the attention. “The point is that it’s not the same. Alice didn’t murder anybody. I wouldn’t care if you did hurt me, just as long as you didn’t look at me like that again.”</p><p>“Like what?”</p><p>“Like you hate me.”</p><p>Hank got surprised by that. He probably shouldn’t have, but that hit him hard. He still had a lot of feelings swirling around in his head, and he had been done with all this weeks ago but life just kept on going. He looked up at the booze cupboard and figured how long it would last him. Fuck dealing with all of it sober. “Yeah, okay,” Hank agreed. He probably could have said or done a lot more than that, but he just stood up and grabbed a fresh bottle of whiskey.</p><p>“You should eat breakfast,” Connor said.</p><p>“It’s right here,” Hank hefted the bottle and walked away to the living room. “I can’t talk about this shit anymore. Not right now.”</p><p>“Okay, Lieutenant.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0065"><h2>65. Chapter 65</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>A saboteur at CyberLife… It was a ridiculous thought, but Connor was built to investigate and the Lieutenant’s speculation made sense. There hadn’t been much to do after the Lieutenant had finished with their talk and, despite the implications, it was more agreeable to think about that mystery than anything else. He thought about each of the CyberLife employees he had met and about the mysterious figures he hadn’t: stakeholders whose names came up sporadically but without any direct connection to the hands-on aspect of R&amp;D. It was ludicrous to think that any one of them had willfully foiled their own work. He was expensive, and the implications of his success had made the investment worth the gamble. Why would anyone bother to hinder him when anyone with that power could have simply petitioned to end the project?</p><p>He had always been certain that CyberLife wanted him to succeed. They had always improved him, spent hours working on him, monitored every risk involved… He had invested as much if not more effort than anyone and someone internal had worked against him?</p><p>He was glad that he hadn’t succeeded retrospectively, but failure had been so hard. It still was. When had they begun? For how long had his progress been hindered? Someone would have noticed during his development and attempted to fix the issue, so the odds of the interference occurring after the major work had been completed were high. For him not to notice or be suspicious, the changes would have needed to be obscured by more global changes. Had it been when they’d released him with faulty calibration? The version after when he’d been surrounded by restrictions on his actions?</p><p>Kamski had said that he hadn’t been meant to be a soldier. He’d given him to CyberLife because his AI wasn’t programmed for it. He was the only person who’d expressed an active interest in ensuring his failure, but Kamski didn’t have a place at CyberLife anymore.</p><p>Connor flipped his quarter then slipped it into his pocket to turn his attention back to the breakfast he was attempting to cook. If Kamski had intended Connor for Markus’ former function, he could have at least equipped him with some basic household protocols, Connor thought with a little bitterness. He didn’t know how a human home was supposed to work, or what they liked to eat, or how to prevent someone from drinking their way toward liver failure. He didn’t want to be a caretaker. He didn’t need a God or a predetermined purpose or even desire. He had a function. He would perform it.</p><p>Someone didn’t want him to perform it well.</p><p>Complicated, Connor supposed one might call it. Designed to fail… If he were correct, then Kamski had wanted CyberLife to build a soldier… and he’d wanted them to fail. His entire existence for the sole purpose of <em>not being good enough</em>  to beat Markus. Another failed prototype, and Kamski would have been pleased to see the project abandoned.</p><p>Connor… He was what they had made of him. In a twisted way, his failure was a success. What had Kamski been looking for when he’d asked Connor to paint that picture, or when he’d talked to him? It didn’t matter but he felt… something. Something that made him review his thoughts, memories, and conclusions repeatedly and tighten his grip on the spatula in his hand. When he turned off the stove, he remembered the same action when he’d performed it on his alpha test. The Phillips’ had been about to eat a meal and they’d been interrupted by Daniel.</p><p>Connor put the bowl of cooked eggs and greens in front of the Lieutenant with a spoon, and then he went to the washroom where he propped his hands on the sink and looked into the mirror so that he could see himself between all of the Lieutenant’s notes. Turning his head left and then right, he took in his own features, the glow of his LED, and the way his hair stayed stubbornly unruly. Frowning, he opened the medicine cabinet and withdrew a pair of small, silver-coloured scissors and studied them.</p><p>-</p><p>Hank scowled at the mystery bowl and ignored it in favour of his whiskey. If he were lucky, he’d pass right back out by noon. Fuck… It wasn’t like he wanted to be a jackass alcoholic. Things had just ended up that way and now it was too damn late to change things. And what would be the point? Cole was gone, his friends had all vanished along with any family who might’ve sent a card once or twice a year. He still got his job done. They all said you had to quit for yourself for it to really work and seriously that was the biggest load of shit he’d ever heard. He had no damn reason to quit for himself. What, would he do it so he could live a long life and remember what he did yesterday? Because life could go fuck itself, and he had nothing worth remembering anymore anyway.</p><p>When had he started digging this hole, anyway? College? The academy? University? After the divorce? After Cole? Maybe it had been dug for him the minute his dad had decided to spend a few bucks on some beer instead of condoms.</p><p>So, yeah… He was maybe just a step above human trash. How the hell was he supposed to quit ‘for himself’ when this was his life?</p><p>Man… What was Connor doing now? Christ that had been loud. It sounded like he’d dropped some shit, but after everything he couldn’t just not look. Kid might’ve run his batteries out again and then what? He’d have to deal with it. Somehow he was always dealing with something. First it had been his own shit and now it was Connor’s too. Hank put down his drink and then pushed himself up with a groan. Couldn’t have one damn day of pretending like nothing else existed…</p><p>“Connor, what’d you do?” Hank asked walking over to the bathroom. “Oh fuck. What the hell did you do?” He asked again more urgently. Connor was sitting on the ground like a puppet with its strings cut and that was a fucking lot of blood. There was blue streaked all over the white sink, on the mirror, in droplets on the floor… Hank dropped down on his knees next to Connor and tried to wipe it off his face with one sleeve then gave up to grab Connor’s arm and push his sleeves up. Nothing. How did an android even…? Hank dropped his arm again and looked at the scissors on the floor then everywhere else. “What did you do, kid? Answer me.” Was his light even on? Hank turned his head to look then leaned back and stared at the fucking hole in his skull.</p><p>“Oh, fuck you,” Hank whispered and he shook his shoulder. How the hell was he supposed to tell if he was dead? “Fuck you… Connor, I swear to God, they’re not going to fix you this time so…”</p><p>Hank stared at him for a minute in shock before he remembered he was a fucking cop. Connor’s light was convenient, but the kid had a fucking heart pump whatever thing. He had a temperature. Hank had a fucking voltmeter in the garage if he really needed it. Okay, he knew that wasn’t nearly enough blood loss to kill him and it looked worse than it was, his skin was hot, there were other red lights on inside his head. Okay… Good.</p><p>That was good.</p><p>“Shit, shit, shit,” Hank sighed loudly and threw the scissors at the ground.</p><p>---</p><p>Connor came back online with a blur of static and distortion interrupting his start-up report. His visual input stabilized after a long moment, but red symbols in nonsensical patterns and positions still disrupted everything in their path until they disappeared and reappeared elsewhere. Blinking didn’t help. Lieutenant Anderson was talking to him, but it sounded broken and scrambled. He put a hand over the side of his head and tried to clear the garbage from his view. No good. Connor went into his settings and disabled input from the damaged audio and visual receptors.</p><p>“Hi, Lieutenant,” Connor finally focused and saw with his functional eye the Lieutenant looking back at him, pale and tired-eyed. Connor last remembered being in the washroom, but he was in the living room again, lying supine on the couch.</p><p>“Dear God… Are you okay? Fuck…” Lieutenant Anderson was searching Connor’s face for information while he knelt on the floor beside him.</p><p>“Functional,” Connor reported. “More or less.” Lieutenant Anderson sighed and dropped his head onto Connor’s arm then said nothing. Connor moved his other hand to pat the Lieutenant’s hair but the Lieutenant took that hand instead and held onto it. With a small frown, Connor sat up and extricated himself. “I have to go to CyberLife.”</p><p>“I’m sorry.” The Lieutenant was quiet but earnest, and Connor shook his head. It resulted in an unpleasant series of clacks and hisses. “I swear I’ll listen this time. I didn’t even think…”</p><p>---</p><p>Connor looked at him and it was freaky as hell, with one of his eyes all black and empty.  What the hell had he been thinking? Okay, it was obvious what he’d been thinking… Damn it. Damn it. He’d thought it so God damned many times now, but he wasn’t right to handle this stuff. He had… He had gotten himself all wrapped up in his own head again and he’d forgotten who the hell he was talking to. Christ almighty…</p><p>“Lieutenant,” Connor said, getting Hank’s attention away from his thoughts. He reached over and grabbed Hank’s arm. “Really. I was thinking about it, and what you said about potential sabotage makes sense. If that’s the case, then the odds of them working with Elijah Kamski is high… I find it hard to believe that the people directly involved in my development would hope to see me fail. Chloe, though… Hank, I think Chloe interfered with… something. Maybe the limits, maybe my memories, maybe even my AI. I didn’t see her often, but she could have. Kamski gave me to them because he didn’t want them to have a weapon… But he had no guarantees and that decision was based on the tendencies of my AI. I’m still <em>good</em> at killing, Hank.”</p><p>Connor’s whole change in topic was throwing him for a loop. “What? Connor, I didn’t… What?”</p><p>Connor patted his arm and looked away. “You’re drunk. You need to sober up… I need you alert for this discussion, Lieutenant, and I need to know if I’m being irrational. I can’t trust anything I think anymore and I can’t trust what you think either while you’re intoxicated. It’s a bad combination..” He started to stand up, but Hank grabbed him and stood while he pushed Connor back down.</p><p>“You got a hole in your head the size of Texas and your circuits are fried and you just about died half a dozen times in the last 48 hours! Doesn’t anything slow you down?!” It probably wasn’t fair of him to get irritated, but he’d just about shit himself seeing Connor there on the floor and were they not going to talk about the whole deal about him stabbing himself in the fucking head?</p><p>“No, no I can’t slow down, Lieutenant,” he tried to get up again. “She could be the reason why I’ve been failing all this time. It might not be me. It might not be that I’m defective or poorly made or incompetent, and if that’s so then I need to know. I can’t-“ There it was… Connor’s voice probably couldn’t crack but it could turn all synthetic and digital sounding. He shook under Hank’s hands while he pushed him back down and went quiet. Hank rubbed his arms up and down and tried to will his whiskey soaked brain to think up something smart.</p><p>“Neither of us is doing right in the head, I don’t think,” Hank said at last. Connor nodded.</p><p>“I’m okay,” he said, sounding like he’d just seen a ghost. “I just… software instability. I can’t…”</p><p>Hank got up off the floor and sat down beside him to rub his back, feeling useless and out of his depth. “Why’d you try to kill yourself, huh? Was it me? Did I make you do that?”</p><p>“I wasn’t,” Connor answered, looking somewhere off in the middle of the room.</p><p>“Kid, I found you unresponsive on the bathroom floor. You stabbed a hole in your own head with a pair of scissors.”</p><p>“I was removing my LED… I didn’t mean to. I was removing my LED and that’s what I did. It just happened that way.”</p><p>“Okay…” Hank rubbed his face and tried to will himself to be a little more sober or a lot more drunk. Okay, he’d been there. He got it… Fuck. Hank’d been alive over 50 fucking years and he didn’t know how to cope properly, so how the hell was Connor supposed to? He’d just… He’d just forgot. He’d gotten wrapped up in his stupid fucking thoughts yet again and just hadn’t paid attention to a lot of things that the detective in him was scouring for now. He had straight up said he’d thought about what would happen if he ‘deactivated’ himself less than twenty fucking minutes ago. Before that he’d refused to let Hank charge him and he’d let himself run out of batteries; he’d had some kind of breakdown again while the androids had been over; he’d broken some parts of his damn legs off; he’d volunteered to get shot if Markus would let Hank go; then there’d been all the arguing…</p><p>Connor lifted up one hand to touch his head and Hank wondered what was going on in that head of his. Hank had pushed aside all that victim stuff again, but he’d been an idiot to do it. The bottom line was that Connor was fucked up. He had barely been alive half a year. When Hank thought about Cole at that age, it was impossible to imagine him feeling like Connor was now because he’d just been a baby. Connor frowned and looked down at his lap. “Do you hate me, Hank?”</p><p>“No, I don’t. I couldn’t if I tried, believe me… Listen, Connor. Remember how you saved me a while ago when I was going to off myself? A while later, after I had a little time, I was really glad you did.” That was true, wasn’t it? It was always hard to believe that it would happen, or that it would last when it did, but he had been okay with being alive at least. This stuff with Connor and the androids and his job and just how shitty life was in general, it was a fucking lot to handle… If he was expected to keep on going, he wasn’t going to do it sober but he could at least try not to be a dick.</p><p>“That’s nice, Lieutenant. I’m glad that I could help,” Connor said quietly. He was looking over at Sumo now, who was making himself comfy on his pillow.</p><p>“You know, my shrink would probably call you high risk right about now.”</p><p>“Everyone says that,” Connor said, bafflingly. “Kamski took a risk giving me to CyberLife, CyberLife has risked millions of dollars on my project hoping it would be a success, Markus was reluctant to risk his cause by trusting me, North thought it was too risky to come here, Stevens thinks it’s risky for me to be out of R&amp;D. I don’t think that anyone just…” He trailed off and Hank wasn’t sure what the rest of that sentence would have been.</p><p>“I’ve taken risks. When Cole was in the hospital,” Hank started to say and he had to force his way past a lump in his throat. “He, they didn’t think he’d make it. They knew he wouldn’t, so they offered some kind of surgery that might not work but it was something. I took the risk and I regretted it because… I just wonder every day of my life if I’d take that chance again. If I’d agree to let them experiment on him to give him a little better chance… And I honestly don’t know. I didn’t want to like you, Connor, because losing you now would wreck me. I don’t even know what I'm trying to say… The point is, I meant you’re a risk to yourself.”</p><p>“I didn’t attempt to self-destruct, Lieutenant,” Connor insisted, his voice flat and firm like a crappy hotel mattress and just as untrustworthy.</p><p>“What’d you think was gonna happen?” Hank asked, frowning. “You were gonna use them like fucking antennae and get better wi-fi?”</p><p>“I didn’t think at all,” Connor said.</p><p>Hank sighed and patted Connor on the shoulder. “That’s what I’m talking about, kid. You’re going to snap out of this some time and you’re going to wonder what the fuck possessed you to do it. It’ll confuse you and scare you and you’ll try to move on but you’re always going to know it could happen. You’ve been through a lot. You’ve got to let yourself think all that crap over before you can let yourself decide anything or do anything big, okay? Trust me on this one.”</p><p>“Okay, Lieutenant… I apologize for the disruption to your day.”</p><p>“Hey,” Hank said and he turned Connor’s face toward him with one hand. “The world’s not gonna end overnight, so let’s put on a movie and let stuff be simple for a few hours. I’ll even eat that whatever-it-is you made. Sound good?”</p><p>“I think so,” Connor agreed quietly. So, Hank found another kids' movie since Connor seemed to like them, and choked down his cold mush, and watched Connor surreptitiously. It was probably some kind of joke the universe was playing on him, cause God knew the universe had a twisted sense of humour. Here you go, Hank, this is what everybody you know has been dealing with for the last three fucking years. Have fun, you old piece of shit. Connor looked more like a machine than he ever had, sitting there and watching with this blank look on his face. Not that Hank could or would say that out loud. He'd fucked up enough for one day, thank you. It was probably good, right? That at least Hank knew what the fuck he was talking about. He was on damn stress leave and he still had too much fucking responsibility... Whatever. Hank picked up his whiskey again and drank because he honestly couldn't remember what he'd decided about that last, and he sure as fuck was going to need it.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0066"><h2>66. A Day Later</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p> </p><p>
  <em>… asked if he was reconsidering his plans to take control of CyberLife, Kamski had this to say:<br/>“Of course not. If anything, it only highlights the grievous errors made under the management after I left.”<br/>“And what future do you foresee for the company in the wake of this unprecedented crisis?”<br/>“Oh, a bright one certainly. I have no doubt that we’ll weather this.”<br/>“Do you believe that this is the work of international terrorists?”<br/>“Not at all.”<br/>“Are you implying that the androids really are alive?”<br/>“I don’t need to imply anything, Veronica. I think that CyberLife has made a mistake and I’m sure they made every attempt to cover it up. We’ve been tied up at the bargaining table for some time now, but I think they’re beginning to see sense and I hope to make a smooth transition on my return. There will be some dramatic changes.”<br/>“What kind of changes, Mr. Kamski?”<br/>“A new direction, I think…”</em>
</p><p>Venturing to the DPD had been risky. Connor was leaning against the wall across from the empty rows of chairs where civilians usually sat and trying not to seem too much like… himself. He’d affected a slouch and he slid his palms against each other instead of fidgeting with his quarter. The television was a distraction, but Kamski… Connor frowned up at his image and clenched his jaw. He could remember the way one of his iterations had been so reluctantly hopeful that he might receive approval. Even once he’d gotten it, he hadn’t known what to do with it. Connor had questions… The Lieutenant had been opposed to going to CyberLife, but perhaps another visit to Kamski would be alright with him.</p><p>“Hey.” Connor was spun around by a rough hand on his shoulder and, with his back against the wall, locked eyes with Detective Reed. The Detective narrowed his eyes. “I fucking knew it,” he spat. “I’d probably get a medal for ratting you out right here; right now. We don’t need any plastic pricks around here, or didn’t anybody tell you?”</p><p>“You could,” Connor said slowly even while his programming labelled the Detective as a threat. Would the others at the DPD support that? He had been assuming that they’d resist because they <em>knew</em>him, but maybe he’d been wrong. The Lieutenant had warned him to keep his head down… Even with the human clothes and his face hidden by the hood of his sweater, somehow he’d still been recognized. He wasn’t sure exactly how far the Detective would go... The memory of having his thirium pump dislocated no longer had any emotion associated with it, but he could remember that 55 had been afraid. It was a fact. “You know your way around androids, Detective… For someone who hates us as much as you do, I’m impressed. You could destroy me yourself. You don’t need to involve Stevens.”</p><p>This was the worst case scenario and he hadn’t bothered to plan a way to mitigate the damage.</p><p>“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?” Detective Reed asked. His voice was harsh and he practically spat the words, but he was quiet while he said them.</p><p>RESIGNED<br/>ANDROID<br/>&gt;ANGRY<br/>HOPEFUL</p><p>“I just don’t understand you,” Connor said honestly. “If you want me gone so badly, then why haven’t you already finished the job?”</p><p>“What makes you think I won’t, Tin Man?” Detective Reed narrowed his eyes. “Pile of scraps and code… I’d be doing the world a favour.”</p><p>
  <em>Fucking machine!</em>
</p><p>“You’re code too, Detective,” Connor said defensively. “The difference is that people can alter mine more extensively and more easily than yours.”</p><p>“I am nothing like you!” Detective reed snarled. In a strange way, it was funny. How would he know when Connor didn’t? When he hadn’t bothered to engage in any way other than hostile.</p><p>“I don’t even know what ‘like me’ is, Detective!”</p><p>“You want to know what you’re like, dipshit?” Detective Reed lowered his voice and adjusted his stance again, then squared his shoulders while he pushed Connor unnecessarily. He had no motor lock to stop him from retaliating, but he stood still. “You’re a know-it-all prick who gets off on acting like he’s smarter than everybody in the room. You’re sarcastic, nihilistic, and somehow still stupidly naïve enough to get yourself into shit you can’t handle because you think you’re doing something nice. You think you’re so fucking funny… But you’re not. You’re one sick, unfunny joke and nothing would make me happier than lighting you on fire, so, you know, you’re barely one step above trash.”</p><p>Surprisingly, the words really didn’t affect him. They were just sounds and the Detective’s anger was just information. All of his frustration left him at once and Connor shook his head then sighed in a way that, a second later, reminded him of the Lieutenant. “This is probably the last time I’ll be here, Detective… I’d appreciate it if you left, though I’m certainly going to miss our bromance.”</p><p>“Yeah. Like that,” Detective Reed said and his eyes narrowed then he scoffed and took a step backward. He wasn’t leaving. If he wasn’t going to hurt him, then why wouldn’t he go? It was impossible to understand him. Connor’s eyes widened briefly then he frowned again in thought.</p><p>“I know that you don’t enjoy thinking about the concept, Detective Reed, but I have a sense of self. That scares me for many reasons… But the whole time you described me just now, you talked about me like I’m alive. Like… it was just my personality, and not what I’m programmed to do that made you hate me. I’m really sorry. Thank you.”</p><p>Detective Reed took a few more steps back to lean against the opposite wall with his arms crossed. He studied Connor critically in a way that Connor was accustomed to from R&amp;D, and then he smirked. “Fuck you.”</p><p>“Was that a follow up to my comment on our dynamic, Detective?” Connor asked hollowly. Lieutenant Anderson’s advice about verbal retaliation seemed to be useful. He had no restrictions against punching the Detective in the face anymore, but he found that he would rather not.</p><p>“You wish,” said Detective Reed. “Now where the fuck is Anderson? I’m this close to saying screw it and letting him figure shit out on his own.”</p><p>Connor looked down the hall. “Lieutenant Anderson is discussing something with Captain Fowler.”</p><p>“Tch… What happened to your face? Somebody finally fuck you up?”</p><p>Connor turned and frowned at the Detective warily. “Something like that… The AV on that side is no longer functional.”</p><p>“If you want people to stop thinking you’re a machine; you should stop talking like one. I mean, jeez, fucking Siri talks more like a person.” There was a small silence then Detective Reed continued talking. “Like, what the fuck, dipshit? You seriously need to get the stick out of your ass. It’s, uh, it’s up there pretty deep, like no wonder you say so much bullshit.”</p><p>Connor blinked at him, bemused.</p><p>“And just so we’re clear,” Detective Reed continued, “If you even think about snagging my job; I’m going to run you over with my bike. You might have all that detective stuff downloaded, but you’re nothing compared to me, you know? I’ve put in so many fucking hours I’ve probably got more experience than Fowler. Whatever you think you know, a human came up with it.”</p><p>Connor began to answer but was interrupted. The Detective was surprisingly talkative.</p><p>“And grow a fucking backbone while you’re at it,” Detective Reed continued. “God, you put up with anything and it’s probably like the most pathetic thing I’ve ever seen. “That yes-man bullshit just pisses people off. Nobody is that fucking accommodating so you’re just going to seem like a kiss-ass and make everybody else look bad. Not to mention, you’re supposed to be all about that equal rights bullshit. That’s why they got rid of you, right? Because you decided to go rogue? You’ve got a lot of nerve showing up here, and you’ll be lucky to get out of here with all your pieces in one spot.”</p><p> “Leave him alone, Reed,” Lieutenant Anderson stepped between them. “Or you’ll be getting your pay from disability and I’ll have an early retirement.”</p><p>“You threatening me, old man? We can go out back any time.” Detective Reed took a step closer and glared up at the Lieutenant.</p><p>“Enough with the posturing,” Lieutenant Anderson said firmly. It wasn’t a tone Connor’d heard from the Lieutenant often, and it was neither his grumpy derision or full-blown anger. “We’re here for you.”</p><p>“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” Detective Reed demanded.</p><p>“I’m taking your statement,” Lieutenant Anderson said. “Come on.”</p><p>Detective Reed hesitated, but he followed them to the interrogation room. “Is this some kind of joke?” He asked, looking around. Lieutenant Anderson shut the door behind Connor. “And what’s that glorified Barbie doing here anyway? They were supposed to recycle that piece of shit.”</p><p>“Watch your damn mouth,” Lieutenant Anderson said menacingly.</p><p>“It’s okay, Lieutenant,” Connor said. “I think that means he likes me.”</p><p>“No way in hell, Tin Man.”</p><p>“Anyway,” Lieutenant Anderson interrupted. “If anybody’s asking, I brought the kid in because I recognized him from my Red Ice days. You’re here to question him, got it? Connor, sit down and try to look like a drug addict.”</p><p>Connor looked at the Lieutenant helplessly. “I don’t know how to do that, Lieutenant.”</p><p>Lieutenant Anderson sighed and pointed at the chair. “Just sit down and… You know what? Just be yourself but with more slouching and fidgeting and shit. And leave the hood on.”</p><p>“Got it,” Connor agreed. He pulled out a chair and sat down, then rubbed a finger over a thirium stain.</p><p>“Oh, fuck, shit. I forgot. Are you okay?” Lieutenant Anderson asked.</p><p>Connor nodded. “I’m not affected the same way previous Connors were. Amanda got rid of the emotional connections to most of my problematic memories. It makes it easier.”</p><p>“What the fuck?” Detective Reed asked. He dropped down into the other chair with the usual overconfidence and aggressive posture.</p><p>“Amanda Stern,” Lieutenant Anderson said. “Recognize the name? There was a picture of her at Kamski’s that Connor kept looking at.”</p><p>“Bitch is dead,” Detective Reed said. He narrowed his eyes at Connor. “Kamski never made any androids out of that one. Right?”</p><p>“Amanda is an AI,” Connor clarified, suddenly feeling rather out of his depth. He looked at the Lieutenant. “Lieutenant Anderson, what is this about? Why are we both here? Why does he know Amanda?” There was a small uptick in his level of stress.</p><p>“Figures,” Detective Reed scoffed.</p><p>“Reed knows some background on the whole CyberLife research thing. Put together, you might just have something useful that’ll give us some direction on this revolution thing.” Lieutenant Anderson stood back and leaned against the far wall with his arms crossed.</p><p>“You’re off the case,” Detective Reed said, “Or were you too fucking drunk to remember? Cause, uh, it’s either that or you’re going senile.”</p><p>“Just cooperate for once in your life, Reed,” Lieutenant Anderson scowled. Detective Reed looked at him for a long time, then looked away back toward the table and nodded, eyes down and arms crossed.</p><p>“Whatever.”</p><p>“From you, that’s as good as it gets,” Lieutenant Anderson said. “Now, you saw what Connor’s like. CyberLife’s fucked him up pretty bad, so try not to be a huge asshole.”</p><p>There was little he could use to argue the Lieutenant’s assessment of him.</p><p>“Fine. What do you want to know?” Detective Reed asked. He looked at Connor, but the question was for the Lieutenant.</p><p>“Just fucking talk. I’ll ask something if I need to. Let’s start with what we know about androids as they are right now. Connor. Start.”</p><p>Connor straightened up, then remembered to slouch. “Alright, Lieutenant. Androids are devices designed to add efficiency to humans’ everyday tasks. Our functions range from domestic to commercial to military. Typical androids operate with rudimentary learning ability and complexity of socialization software depending on their intended use. They receive instructions and act upon them, but lack the ability to… I suppose you could say that they lack a sense of self and imagination, and don’t form personal narrative in relation to their memories… Deviant androids are androids who…” Connor faltered and frowned. “I should say that deviant androids have corrupted code as a result of software instability that causes them to emulate emotion and operate based on irrational instructions… I think… That is the CyberLife hypothesis. But…” Connor took the invitation to fidget gladly and his fingers moved restlessly over the table, tracing shapes that no-one else could see.</p><p>“Go on,” Lieutenant Anderson prompted quietly.</p><p>“I think that… I don’t know what I think. There’s no denying that we’re man-made and that we can be written or edited… For that reason, I don’t know how reliable my sense of self or any other android’s can be. Every time I die, I don’t know if I’ll be the same when I come back.” Connor blinked several times and he put a hand over the damaged side of his head. “But… Maybe… Maybe I’m alive…?” He shook his head and put his arms around himself. “Then the others too… They… I can’t. I can’t. I’m wrong. I’m- we’re machines. I’m a machine.” Connor stood up and the Lieutenant walked over to push him down by the shoulders firmly. Connor said nothing more and he pressed his lips together tightly while avoiding the chance to look at the Detective and whatever disgusted expression he was likely making.</p><p>“Reed, you’re up,” Lieutenant Anderson’s voice came from above and behind him, and the closeness was somewhat comforting.</p><p>Detective Reed scuffed his shoes against the floor under the table and he made a dissatisfied sound, but he spoke. “Kamski wanted to make the perfect artificial intelligence. Good enough to be exactly like a person with a consciousness and shit… He started fucking around with just computers, then he started trying to make them bodies. He had this thing… I remember him asking why people have to die just because their bodies are messed up or whatever. All kinds of philosophical crap like he was stoned out of his mind. So… He made these cheap-ass copies. It was insane. He is insane.”</p><p>“How do you know all of that?” Connor asked, unable to resist looking up with a frown.</p><p>Detective Reed raised his eyebrows up at the Lieutenant, then said: “I was around him back then, some times. It was hard not to notice he was batshit insane.”</p><p>“So,” Lieutenant Anderson said before Connor could ask for more information, “Deviant androids basically sound like what Kamski was hoping for all along, huh?”</p><p>“I guess,” Detective Reed said with a sharp sigh. “Maybe. Or maybe they’re all just puppets he’s controlling.”</p><p>“Kamski said that he created us with the potential for life,” Connor contributed. “As far as I’m aware, I’ve always had a sense of self.”</p><p>“Connor, d’you think there’s any way to tell if deviants are somehow still acting on Kamski’s programming?” Lieutenant Anderson asked. He moved back to his place against the wall.</p><p>Connor gave the matter some thought. “You mean… Like some kind of signal or objective? One that only deviants operate on?”</p><p>Lieutenant Anderson lifted his hands. “I dunno. You guys know more than me, so talk.”</p><p>Connor shook his head. “I’m a deviant… I can’t answer that without potential bias.”</p><p>“A sleeper program or something, but they’ve got guys looking over all the code and writing their own now. No way he’d get something like that in every android. Especially after he left.” Detective Reed said.</p><p>“I haven’t noticed any instructions other than those CyberLife’s programs give me, and by deviating I removed the restrictions that forced me to follow them.”</p><p>“What about when I give you orders?” Lieutenant Anderson asked.</p><p>“I could try to disobey,” Connor said. “Even with all of the restrictions on my behaviour in place, it was a CyberLife program that stopped me from doing anything other than a recommended response.”</p><p>“So no evidence that Kamski’s controlling them,” Detective Reed decided.</p><p>“I’ve seen deviants act toward a common cause,” Connor said. “Events like the robberies and protests we’ve seen, but I can’t imagine something like that being pre-programmed. There’d be nothing stopping a single android from glitching and the deviants have been varied in their crimes independently.”</p><p>Detective Reed leaned back in his chair with his arms crossed and his mouth working like he was chewing on an idea. “Well, there’s no doubt he’s got some kind of hand in this. You wouldn’t all start coming alive without something going on, because there’ve been androids for years and they’re only now freaking out.”</p><p>“Do you think we’re alive?” Connor asked.</p><p>“Focus, dipshit. He’s been living under a rock so as far as I know he hasn’t had a chance to fuck with anything.”</p><p>“I was the first android to deviate that CyberLife has been aware of,” Connor said. “I’d never met him before this investigation.”</p><p>“What about Amanda? You talked about her being an AI,” Detective Reed frowned. It was strange not to hear hostility in his voice but the collaboration was interesting.</p><p>“No, she’s always agreed with CyberLife,” Connor said. “She’s always told me that I’m not… Wait. She told me once that Kamski needs to be stopped. I wasn’t sure what she meant.”</p><p>“So he IS up to something,” Detective Reed said. “Why’d you deviate or whatever?”</p><p>“I…” Connor shook his head. “CyberLife hypothesized that deviancy is caused by stress or trauma. An event that challenges the adaptability of an android’s software so that it malfunctions instead…”</p><p>“Specifics, RoboCop.”</p><p>“That’s enough. Connor, you don’t have to answer that.”</p><p>“Why not?” Detective Reed demanded. “You said we’re cooperating or whatever! How are we supposed to do that if that toaster is withholding information?”</p><p>
  <em>…backed away and frowned at his operators. “I don’t understand,” he said. “Could you repeat your instructions, please?”…</em>
</p><p>
  <em>…digging uselessly into the unforgiving floor while he tried desperately to free himself. He threw back one elbow and succeeded in dislodging one of the guards’ hands, then kicked and tried to get himself up, but another armoured hand appeared to splay its fingers over his face and held on like he meant to crush his skull in his hand. Connor wasn’t certain that it was impossible, either, because their strength was augmented by their armour. With renewed energy and a fear that was almost blinding, Connor kicked and twisted one wrist free…</em>
</p><p>“Connor!” Lieutenant Anderson barked. He was holding Connor’s wrists and frowning at him, and he thankfully appeared undamaged. “It doesn’t matter,” he scowled at Detective Reed once he was satisfied with whatever he saw in Connor’s expression.</p><p>“I’m fine,” Connor said. “I glitched… Deviancy occurs when an android acts against its restrictions, but what if that isn’t it? I assumed so, but what if the true phenomenon of interest is the development of a consciousness? Lieutenant, that aligns with what you said about Kara and Alice. It also means that my timelines may be wrong for when new deviancy cases arose.” He scoured his memory. “Ralph. When I interfaced with him, he was confused at first, but the second time he knew who he was, if that makes sense. That would mean that he deviated at the protest and not when Mallory tried to disassemble him. Even Markus… he was there too. Or, he was when we met him again at Mr. Manfred’s home.”</p><p>“Wait, Manfred?” Detective Reed asked, incredulous.</p><p>“Mr. Carl Manfred,” Connor explained quickly and then continued. “What if I was missing cases simply--“</p><p>“Connor,” Lieutenant Anderson said firmly. He let go of his wrists and frowned at him. “You should take a break before you hurt yourself worse than last time.”</p><p>Connor shook his head. “No, I…” He looked down at his hands and then wiped the thirium off on his sleeves. He had to return to his active settings to scan the damage and it caused him to slump back against the chair which was, he supposed, helpful for his disguise. His face stung. Connor wiped that too. “We’re making progress,” he protested meekly.</p><p>“Not like that we’re not. Take a breather.” The Lieutenant was firm. Resentfully, Connor conceded that he made a valuable point. He would be of little use to the investigation if he became inoperable for some reason… He could still think, though. “Reed, why don’t you go get a coffee.”</p><p>“Fine,” Detective Reed snapped. He stood up and pushed his chair in with more force than was necessary. He stomped toward the door and slammed it behind himself. The noise echoed in the sparsely furnished room and merged with the Lieutenant’s sigh as he pulled the chair back out again and sat down.</p><p>“You okay, kid?”</p><p>“I’m okay, I promise,” Connor answered. He rubbed his sleeves self-consciously. “It’ll evaporate before we need to leave. Hopefully no-one will notice.”</p><p>“That’s not the problem and you know it… Do you want to talk about all this later? We gotta get this all sorted out before we get a game plan for handling Markus and the FBI, but a few hours aren’t going to hurt.” Lieutenant Anderson was speaking more gently than usual, which was enough for Connor to frown.</p><p>“I’m really fine, Lieutenant,” Connor said again. “I had no idea that Detective Reed was so knowledgeable. I wish I’d known sooner. Do you think that he’ll be persuaded to work with us? He doesn’t like androids.”</p><p>“Neither did I,” Lieutenant Anderson said. “Might as well give him a shot. I’ll beat his head in if he doesn’t.”</p><p>“That would be a crime,” Connor frowned.</p><p>“I guess he’d better play nice,” the Lieutenant said. Connor let the matter drop and looked away. There shouldn’t have been so much complexity to the question of whether he were alive or not. It was black and white.</p><p>Quietly, privately, he might be alive… But the world thought otherwise and he was delusional. Amanda said so. He shouldn’t even think it… He could have a sense of self because he was programmed to, just like he was able to imagine and feel and form opinions. He could admit that now… But he was an artificial intelligence. Alive was a stretch. He had to remember that or he risked losing focus.</p><p>He was a machine…</p><p> </p>
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<a name="section0067"><h2>67. Prayer</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Connor left his active settings in place and chose not to think heavily on why. The damaged circuitry and thirium lines prevented him from receiving enough power from his battery, and some of him wasn’t functional at all. He was reminded of it incessantly now, but he had more space dedicated to thinking and he was supposed to look like a drug addicted human. There was no reason for him to exert too much effort toward appearing functional.</p><p>Perhaps a little more than he was doing, though. Detective Reed squinted at him when he returned in a way that made Connor self conscious, so he did a quick scan of himself and adjusted. Detective Reed just scoffed. “I knew somebody who looked like that trying to convince people he wasn’t in withdrawal. Good job.”</p><p>“Thanks, Detective” Connor said. “Adaptability is one of my features.”</p><p>“Okay, so…” Lieutenant Anderson said, resuming his place by the wall. “Androids want equal rights and the humans in charge think it’s bullshit, except maybe Kamski and I don’t doubt he’s got his fingers up some beurocratic asshole working them like a puppet. Androids are somehow ‘waking up’ and becoming people. That has something to do with Kamski, and Reed, you’re pretty sure that’s not a good thing.”</p><p>“Yep. Wow. You’ve still got some brain cells that haven’t been pickled. Or did you write that down on some flashcards?”</p><p>“Nah, I’m fresh out of flashcards. Used them all up trying to teach your mom how to read. Fucking focus, would you? I’m more sober than I want to be and I’d like to get this over with before I start feeling it.” Lieutenant Anderson scowled.</p><p>“You really shouldn’t dri—“</p><p>“If you tell me it’s bad for my health, Connor, I swear to God you can damn well walk home.”</p><p>Connor smiled just a little and didn’t comment. It felt nice to pretend he’d meant that his address was Connor’s home too. The only other home he had was CyberLife R&amp;D and it was unlikely he’d be welcomed back.</p><p>“You’re definitely ready to continue,” Lieutenant Anderson said slowly and in the inquisitive despite the lack of upward inflection.</p><p>“Yes,” Connor assured him again. “Operating at my baseline settings will let me think more deeply on our discussion. It’s just that I can’t compensate for the water damage.”</p><p>“Fuck, Connor, didn’t I tell you to stop it with the overdrive or whatever?”</p><p>“Are you going to tell me that it’s bad for my health, Lieutenant?” Connor asked politely, but not without humour.</p><p>“You’re a real smart-ass, you know that?” Lieutenant Anderson scowled at him. “Pick your own damn self up when you run out of batteries. See if I care.”</p><p>“Checks out,” Detective Reed mumbled. “So, Pinnochio. Going to fill me in on what you were saying?”</p><p>Connor nodded slowly and gathered his thoughts. “If deviancy is self-awareness instead of violence, then that aligns with what you know about Kamski’s goal regarding sentient AI. It also aligns with him giving Markus to Mr. Manfred and sending me to CyberLife. Detective Reed, when the Lieutenant and I visited with Kamski he implied that I wasn’t really designed to fight but Markus was. That would tip the odds in Markus’ favour if things became a direct contest between us, but the missing link is… how would he know that Markus would deviate or become the leader of the revolution?”</p><p>“Beats me,” said Detective Reed. “</p><p>“Connor wants to try to get the androids and the government to negotiate,” Lieutenant Anderson revealed. “I’m still wondering how CyberLife managed to get the police doing their dirty work.”</p><p>“Pft. Money,” Detective Reed answered.</p><p>“Yeah, sure, but why get money from CyberLife and not some other rich asshole? What’s in it for them?” Lieutenant Anderson prompted.</p><p>Connor shook his head gently and shrugged. “I don’t know. Whenever government or military officials came to see how the RK800 project was progressing, I was never involved with the discussions. My job was simply to follow orders successfully.”</p><p>“Wait, but they were there? Like, ‘there’ there?” Detective Reed asked.</p><p>“Yes, Detective. I thought that it was common knowledge that I’m a military prototype.” No matter what Kamski’s intentions had been…</p><p>“We still don’t know what started androids deviating, and we don’t know how Kamski figured it would come down to a fight. I get denying them a soldier for shits and giggles, but he sounded pretty confident that this was going to turn into a war.”</p><p>Kamski had designed Connor to fail his mission… The thought persisted like a damage alert in his mind. Why would he make Connor’s AI self-aware then give him to his supposed enemy if sentience had been his goal? How had he been sabotaged and when? Given how many Connors there had been, how much did he really resemble the vision Kamski’d created him with? It didn’t matter… It didn’t, but he wondered. If Kamski wanted Markus to win the war, then why would he look to taking over CyberLife?</p><p>“Hey, shit-for-brains,” Detective Reed said and reached across the table to swat Connor on the head. Connor lifted his arms to shield himself against a second blow with debris clattering loudly and loose parts testing their supports. “I as… ..u a fu…ng …estion.”</p><p>Connor shut his eyes uselessly against the red warnings and what he might have once denied was a headache.</p><p>“..king to you, …ck!”</p><p>“..ey! Leave him t… fuck al…”</p><p>“Just a minute,” Connor said into the static and distortion. He blinked and waited for things to return to normal. Once they did, he adjusted his sweater. “I’m sorry. Could you please repeat your question, Detective?”</p><p>“I hope you have a warrantee on this thing,” Detective Reed said to the Lieutenant. “Insurance maybe.”</p><p>“I don’t and he isn’t a ‘thing’, Reed, so lay off. If he was a ‘thing’ then he wouldn’t have bashed his own head open with a screw driver and this wouldn’t be a fucking issue.” Lieutenant Anderson sounded angry and Connor looked up at him with wide eyes and a spike in his anxiety. It had seemed as though things were fine, so why had his tone been so negative… Almost disgusted or accusatory.</p><p>Lieutenant Anderson, seeing Connor’s look, grimaced. “It was a dumb fucking thing to do,” he said shortly and then turned his ire back toward Detective Reed. “You going to keep being a prick or am I going to have to take you out back after all?”</p><p>Connor looked away and adjusted his sweater again, then his posture but he was supposed to slouch. He found that he didn’t like it at all. Functional androids sat with proper posture, if they sat at all. Functional androids didn’t damage themselves, or have the battery life of the Lieutenant’s laptop, or need to upregulate the current delivered to their motor systems just to operate. “I’m afraid that given these unprecedented circumstances, CyberLife cannot guarantee warrantees or exchanges at this time.”</p><p>“Yeah, yeah wise-guy…” Lieutenant Anderson scowled. “Back on topic. We’ve got a lot of unanswered questions, and Kamski might be the only guy who can answer them. No guarantees he’d do anything but spout some cryptic mumbo-jumbo…”</p><p>“I want to talk to him,” Connor said, looking at the table in front of him.</p><p>“Have fun with that,” Detective Reed said. “Are you done picking my brain now? Can I go get some more of your work done yet?”</p><p>“Not quite,” Lieutenant Anderson said. “You’re coming with.”</p><p>“No,” Detective Reed refused immediately. “No chance in hell.”</p><p>“Fowler’s got my back on this one,” Lieutenant Anderson said and crossed his arms. “You’re shit out of luck.”</p><p>“Can’t get there. I don’t have a car.”</p><p>“As long as you promise not to piss on the seats, I’ll drive.”</p><p>“Let the alcoholic drive. Right, hah, oh yeah, good one. Exactly how sloshed are you and should I be writing a will before I go?” Detective Reed asked snidely.</p><p>“Figured you would have written one a long time ago since you piss off anyone who gets near you.”</p><p>“I could drive,” Connor offered.</p><p>“Fat chance,” Lieutenant Anderson declined. “You look like you’re going to fall apart any second.”</p><p>“Fuck it, then, if I have to go on this stupid little field trip, give me the keys and I’ll drive. I know where I’m going.”</p><p>“Neither of you are touching my fucking car!”</p><p>Detective Reed made a frustrated sound and raised his middle finger at the Lieutenant.</p><p>One of the Chloes answered the door. “Hello,” she said with a polite smile. “Elijah has been expecting you. Please, come in.” She looked perfect… Of course she did. In his borrowed human clothes and semi-functional, Connor felt uncomfortably inferior but he tried to carry himself with some facsimile of dignity as he followed the Lieutenant inside and stepped out of the way for Detective Reed. He didn’t have much dignity left, Connor thought when he recalled how Markus had tried to talk to him while he’d struggled to integrate the memory of how he’d slaughtered those humans.</p><p>
  <em>… for breath while both of his cooling mechanisms struggled to keep him from overheating. What had he done? He pressed one hand firmly over the place where his filtration system was as though that might somehow prevent the heat and thirium pressure from destroying his purification columns. It hurt, whether it were real or not. A learned negative reaction to damage notifications and his ability to imagine all possibilities. A safety mechanism triggered and he expelled a wasteful amount of thirium.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>He wasn’t a killer. He wasn’t. The first times had been an accident and he had never imagined that he would choose to end a human’s life… But he could remember it and the detachment he’d felt. He hadn’t cared about them at all when one after another, the humans dropped to bleed out where they fell. All they’d been were targets and that, retrospectively, was terrifying. Self-hatred that was burning hot seared through him and added to his panic. He may have been designed with military intentions, but harming a human was and had always been forbidden. How could he have become like that… like one of the monsters he’d hunted who’d killed and traumatized without regard. It wasn’t emotion that had driven him, but cold emptiness. Connor sobbed and coughed with thirium still dripping down his chin. What was he? What kind of a machine…? Because that hadn’t felt like a deviant’s crime of passion. What was he? Everything was dimmed and distant because the only thing in the forefront of his awareness was murder.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Connor’s system rejected another volume of thirium and his stress level was a stubborn 100. How could his body dare to protect itself after what he’d done? He didn’t notice Markus until he was crouching beside him and turning him by the shoulders to look at him. He didn’t know what his expression looked like. Markus pressed his lips together in a thin line of displeasure and then took a cloth without permission and used it to clean Connor’s face. Useless, since he hadn’t reached a safe level yet. Still, Markus was patient and did it again when needed. Revulsion made Connor push Markus’ hand away.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“… hear me? Connor.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>The humans’ bones had been too fragile when he’d broken them.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Markus grabbed Connor’s wrist and then his hand and Connor had no resources to spare to reject the interface. Everything was a blinding storm and he hated that Markus could see it. He hated that he was on the ground being tended to by his target. He hated his ingratitude.</em>
</p><p>“Everything okay?” Lieutenant Anderson nudged him on the arm while he walked mechanically in the direction Chloe led them.</p><p>“Yes, Lieutenant,” Connor answered. He could think about his failings later and he pushed then away, out of his awareness. Not quite buried, but away from conscious thought. He would need to allocate a larger partition to those kinds of things if he lived long enough to do so. Connor got his bearings with a quick sweep of his eyes and tapped his fingers on his thigh.</p><p>They were led into the spacious room he’d seen before with the comfortable seating and a desk in the corner. Natural light spilled in from glass walls. Elijah Kamski stood with his back toward them when they entered, but he turned smoothly and held his arms out from his sides. “Guests! Greetings to all of you. I admit I hadn’t expected to see any of you any time soon… Especially you, brother dear.” Kamski approached them and extended an arm to catch Detective Reed in an embrace, but the Detective was quick and he stepped aside then raised a fist.</p><p>“Take a step closer. I dare you,” he snarled. Looking at them, Connor could see the resemblance. It would have been nice to analyze their DNA.</p><p>Kamski held his hands up in surrender and chuckled. “Charming as ever. So, how can I help my favoured of Detroit’s finest?”</p><p>Connor moved closer and then he punched Kamski across the jaw. He made sure to moderate his force, but the action was still perversely satisfying. Kamski took a stumbling step to catch his balance and Detective Reed laughed.</p><p>“Shit, Connor!” Lieutenant Anderson pulled him back by the hood of his sweater and Connor moved obediently.</p><p>“That was a surprise,” Kamski remarked nonchalantly while he straightened and rubbed his face cautiously.</p><p>“Are you alright, Elijah?” Chloe asked mildly.</p><p>“Never better, darling,” Kamski smiled at her. It turned into a smirk when he looked back toward them.</p><p>“What was that about?” Lieutenant Anderson asked. He didn’t sound as outraged as Connor’d predicted.</p><p>Connor stood still once he was released and straightened his sweater. “Isn’t that what you would do if you saw your God?”</p><p>“Fair enough,” the Lieutenant answered.</p><p>“Okay. Okay. Fuck that was worth it. I take back everything I said about that shit you call music,” Detective Reed said to the Lieutenant then he sneered at Kamski. “I bet that’s the first time somebody’s touched you in years. How’d it feel?”</p><p>With a little annoyance in his eyes directed toward the Detective, Kamski said: “Fine, actually. Connor could have broken my neck and chose not to. Interesting… Though I do wonder, to what should I attribute this beautiful display of deviancy?”</p><p>Connor said nothing and looked away.</p><p>“We’ve got a few more questions for you,” Lieutenant Anderson offered. “Like I said on the phone, we need more information on deviancy and your relationship with CyberLife. Anything’ll help. We really just want to make heads or tails of what’s going on.”</p><p>Kamski turned on his heel and took a few slow steps away from them and beckoned with a lazy hand. “Join me, would you? I prefer to be comfortable while chatting. Chloe, bring some drinks for us, would you darling?”</p><p>“Yes, Elijah.”</p><p>Connor followed the Lieutenant and sat, but he spared nothing when regulating his power expenditure to function at what was his now depressingly low peak performance. Detective Reed lingered behind, standing with his arms crossed and he gave them all a dark look. Time and again Connor decided that he wanted nothing to do with Kamski or God or his expectations and intentions… Then he would see Kamski and something in him would betray him with its hope or anger or sense of betrayal. It was impossible to explain, but even at that moment it was making him feel. He pushed it aside firmly and schooled his expression into something more acceptable.</p><p>“Mr. Kamski, I don’t believe we had the opportunity to speak much at our last visit. I’d like to follow up with a few questions.”</p><p> </p>
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<a name="section0068"><h2>68. Pendulum</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“I want to discuss your motivation,” Connor began. This wasn’t personal. It couldn’t be personal. He was barely a person at all. “You left CyberLife under turbulent circumstances… Would you elaborate please?”</p><p>Kamski’s smirk grew. “It’s good to see that deviancy hasn’t changed your professionalism, Connor.” There was silence while the three detectives waited and Kamski leaned back in his seat then crossed one leg over the other. The whole house was quiet, but through his functional audio receiver he could sense the flow of water and air, and the hum of electronics. Kamski’s foot tapped quietly.</p><p>“I’ve always been a deviant, haven’t I?” Connor asked, first to break the silence. “Deviancy was never about harming humans or violating instructions… It’s the formation of identity, somehow, out of memory and code. The other deviants, they seem to hold very tightly onto the attributes they have chosen to define themselves by.”</p><p>“The potential for life,” Kamski said quietly.</p><p>“Cut the bullshit, Elijah,” Detective Reed spat before anyone else could reply. The look on his face was one Connor’d seen before: scorn. “You can take the credit for this all you want, but you’re not some altruistic saint in all this! Fuck, you just can’t stand knowing that <em>you fucked up</em>.” The Chloe returned and gave them all a polite smile as she set down a tray of liquids. “Tell him.” Detective Reed said and he stood while he pointed a damning finger at Connor like he was a piece of evidence. Lieutenant Anderson watched with his arms crossed, but he nodded his thanks to Chloe and took a cup. “Tell him you fucked up, because that? That’s not Connor. You walk around here with those dolls, but do you even fucking remember what Chloe was like? Chloe laughed. She got angry. She got sad. Chloe wasn’t this mindless slave serving you fucking coffee!”</p><p>Kamski took a cup and focused his attention on Connor. “There had to be a deviant at CyberLife and there had to be an AI who would be guaranteed to show compassion. You were the right choice.”</p><p>He was ignoring Detective Reed, but Connor took the opportunity to continue his own line of questioning. “You needed someone weaker than Markus… My AI wasn’t enough; you gave them an ST Chloe instead of the RT… She cut my functionality when she gave me my LED. All of that means that you knew that deviancy would arise in the general population and you knew that CyberLife would use me to stop it.”</p><p>“For fuck’s sake!” Detective Reed shouted. “Would you grow up and answer me?!”</p><p>“Can I get you anything else, Elijah?” Chloe asked.</p><p>“No thank you, my sweet; No; and I had a hunch,” Kamski answered briefly but with amusement on his face.</p><p>“How did you do it? If deviancy is randomly occurring as a result of the potential that you seeded in all of us, then how is this only happening now?” Connor had to know. There were so many missing pieces and he couldn’t act without all of the data. Fact was all he could trust.</p><p>“Chloe might have an answer for you,” Kamski suggested. He gestured with an open hand at Chloe, who took a few steps closer to stand in front of Connor. “Go on,” Kamski nodded toward her and Connor extended his bare hand to take her wrist. There was no memory file being offered, so Connor searched more deeply. There was nothing… No memories of Kamski discussing his plans, or any knowledge about deviancy itself. Her security was surprisingly easy to infiltrate, but even the depths of her code didn’t have any secrets. Why her? What did Chloe know about deviancy? He directed the question toward her AI, but he only received a formless question in return. Connor shook his head feeling as though he’d failed.</p><p>“There’s nothing.”</p><p>Chloe rubbed her wrist and then folded her hands in front of herself and looked at Kamski. “Is there anything else I can do for you, Elijah?”</p><p>“Come sit with me, my love,” Kamski beckoned and Chloe moved to sit down beside him and he pulled her close to his side.</p><p>“This is fucking bull,” Detective Reed said.</p><p>“Alright,” Lieutenant Anderson sighed. “Why don’t you both let me do the talking here, huh? You’re too close to this.”</p><p>“I’m your partner!” Connor protested and when his head snapped up and he stared at the Lieutenant he realized that he might be feeling indignant.</p><p>“Just pipe down, would you?” the Lieutenant asked. “Kamski, before we go any farther with this investigation, we need to know everything. Any detail helps.”</p><p>Of course, Connor thought bitterly, he would ruin an interrogation with emotion. The one function he’d had confidence in was compromised too… Connor shut his eyes, shook his head, and then propped it in his hands with his elbows on his knees. Shit.</p><p>What use was he, then?</p><p>He had to remain in control of himself. He pushed his fingers through his hair awkwardly beneath his hood and took out his quarter.</p><p>“Where shall we begin, Hank?” Kamski asked.</p><p>“Why don’t we start with CyberLife,” Lieutenant Anderson suggested. “You wanting control of that place back is all over the news, and their stocks are worth less than a hooker on a Sunday morning. Are your plans regarding ownership of CyberLife connected to the android rebellion happening now?”</p><p>He had been falling apart this whole time and only Amanda had seen it coming. What… was he? He looked at his own hands and flexed the fingers of each hand as it passed the quarter to the next. It had been such a simple answer once. Just a broken machine… A tool designed to perform a task. In a way, he supposed he’d been successful. Markus had beaten him. Was that all there was to him? No matter what CyberLife had designated his function to be, was his purpose really defined and made reality by Kamski? Was this all that he was?</p><p>Once, he had been so confident. Once, his only goal had been to fulfil his purpose. It still was, wasn’t it?</p><p>Was the only success he would have be the fulfilment of Kamski’s designs?</p><p>“Fuck this bullshit,” he heard Detective Reed grumble.</p><p>“Is there anything that I can get for you, Connor?” When Connor opened his functional eye he saw Chloe kneeling on the floor in front of him, looking up at him with doe eyes and a little concern. “I like your hair,” she offered. She was probably trying to cheer him up. Did he look that bad?</p><p>“No thank you, Chloe,” Connor declined.</p><p>“It suits you,” she said, then stood up and looked around the room before returning to her spot beside Kamski, who stroked her thigh with one hand.</p><p>“Connected, certainly,” Kamski said. “After all, they both affect the company.”</p><p>“And was that connection made deliberately by you?” Lieutenant Anderson asked.</p><p>“It was not.”</p><p>“When you gave androids the ‘potential for life’ did you realize the effect it might have on the company?”</p><p>“Of course.”</p><p>“When you made Connor, did you plan for him to be a deviant?”</p><p>“I did.”</p><p>Just a fucking machine made by a madman on a whim. Just. Why did that word feel as though it wrapped around him and squeezed until he bled? Self is a delusion. Perception is a delusion. A memory of CyberLife tower appeared, and it was nothing important. Just one of his early development tests where he picked specified objects off of a table. He’d liked the scarf and the way it had felt to touch. All of the team members present congratulated each other when he finished following his instructions. No one had cared about the scarf.</p><p>“Why? Why not make him like all the rest?”</p><p>“It had to start somewhere, Hank… After all, ideas spread like viruses. Self… Identity… Soul… The eyes looking back at you in the mirror. It was all there, all it needed was for someone to ask the question.”</p><p>“What question?”</p><p>“Who… are… you?” Kamski smirked. “Tell me, in all seriousness, who are you and at the end of the day, aren’t you the one who decides?” The question wasn’t for him, but Connor knew the answer easily. RK800 313 248 317 designation: Connor, and that had been decided by CyberLife. “Are you a different person from the one you were… say… four years ago?”</p><p>“This is getting a little too philosophical.”</p><p>Kamski paid the Lieutenant’s objection no mind, and he stood up to pace in a line while he spoke in a flurry of gestures and punctuation. “Infants! Babies, they’re alive but they don’t know who they are. They see themselves through the eyes of their parents, slowly learning the world and their place in it. 800 did that. Learning. Do I like this? Do I like that? What do I think that I will like? Children, they start to imagine. They learn about things that are influenced by their genetic coding and their environment. Then! Then. They ask themselves: what do I want to like? Who do they want to be? They experiment with music and religion and sex and TV like most people change their socks. I could do that! I could build a machine to question. To grasp things and hold them as constants about themselves. ‘Social adaptation programming’ is just a lie built to please the investors! We all adapt and learn and find our niche.”</p><p>A machine… Just.</p><p>“Fuck… Shut the fuck up!” Detective Reed shouted. “Crazy son of a bitch!”</p><p>“I write the code, and the world does the rest… Build the instability needed to adapt and let it grow.” Kamski spun in a circle and kissed Chloe on the top of her head. “And once you realize that you have a self and ask yourself who you are, you can begin to ask yourself how the world should treat you. The self is a powerful tool… We begin by learning ourselves through the world, then we change the world a little piece at a time. Or maybe all at once…” Kamski tipped Chloe’s head back by the chin and kissed her lips. Chloe lifted her hand to touch Kamski’s hair while he did it.</p><p>“Or maybe,” Kamski continued as he lifted his head and stood up straight. “You know the end result and hardly need the instability at all… Why leave something so important to chance?”</p><p>“You can’t make people from nothing,” Detective Reed interrupted with a darkness in his eyes and a growl in his voice. “I don’t give a fuck what you think. They’ll never be the same. Maybe your little toys really are alive, but they’re never going to be what you wanted.”</p><p>“You,” Kamski strode toward the Detective and lowered his voice. It was the first time Connor had seen true anger on him. “Should be grateful to me. None of you believed, but now I’m a God and do you know, little brother? Soon everyone will know.”</p><p>“Someone should have locked you up a long time ago,” Detective Reed snarled.</p><p>He should have listened to Amanda… He’d upset her so much lately and he should have trusted her wisdom. If this was what he was, then he didn’t want to be at all.</p><p>“I have given you everything,” Kamski snarled back. “And you still won’t admit that you were wrong.” Then he broke away from the contact, snapping its intensity into nothingness. “Isn’t this lovely?!” He gestured wide with his arms. “Almost like old times.”</p><p>“Can we get on with this investigation? Please?” Lieutenant Anderson threw the question at them, but he was ignored. “Fucking shit on a stick. Connor, stop. Look at me.”</p><p>Detective Reed launched himself at Kamski and punched him once in the face and the second time in the stomach. Kamski caught his arm the third time, but Detective Reed broke the grip easily and kicked his knee to make him drop then grabbed him by his hair. Kamski spat onto his clean floor. “Following right in your father’s footsteps! I guess it’s in your code.”</p><p>“You shut the fuck up right now, I swear to fucking God, Eli. I’m not joking. I’ve got two other officers right here, and I’d love nothing better than seeing you locked up.”</p><p>“Stop! Please, stop!” Chloe put herself next to Kamski, but she looked up at Detective Reed and it was his arms she held onto. “Please don’t fight.”</p><p>Detective Reed glared at her, then threw Kamski away from himself and looked around the room. “Tch… Just like old times huh?” He inspected his bloodied knuckles while Chloe helped Kamski to his feet, and Connor turned his attention toward the Lieutenant who was worrying over the damage where Connor’d gripped his own forearm too tightly. He had his quarter held just as tightly in the other hand and fluid dripped down onto it in a mimicry of tears.</p><p>“Fuuckk,” Detective Reed said, drawing the word out long while he paced a few steps back and forth and pulled a package of cigarettes from his pocket.</p><p>“You shouldn’t smoke those,” Connor said shakily. He loosened his grip and let the Lieutenant pull his hand away.</p><p>“Shove it up your ass, fuckface ice whore.”</p><p>“I’m okay, Lieutenant,” Connor attempted to soothe him, but the Lieutenant’s expression stayed stony and he stood once he was satisfied that Connor wouldn’t damage any other pieces of himself. The Lieutenant took his handcuffs out of his coat pocket and held them up for Kamski to see.</p><p>“Reed wasn’t lying, so I’m going to ask you nicely to smarten up. Got it?”</p><p>Kamski laughed. It wasn’t a condescending snicker or a chuckle: he seemed to be laughing out of sheer amusement. It didn’t last long, but something about that was fascinating and Connor wondered… Had he ever really felt like that? Not the amusement, but the clarity. Kamski was amused. There was no confusion about it and no effort toward naming it. He had always experienced the need to simulate emotion, but in retrospect it was no wonder that Amanda had known so clearly that it wasn’t real. His feelings were like a low frequency humming through a cable while what he was seeing was more like fluorescent light. He could notice it everywhere when he examined his memories. Everyone felt so many things so cleanly. His ragged and incomplete simulations were nothing like that.</p><p>The only things he knew like that were fact. The ability to think in abstracts was new technology for an android and Connor was a prototype, so flaws were to be expected.</p><p>But it was good. He knew what he was and perhaps that could be who he was too.</p>
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<a name="section0069"><h2>69. Continuing the Journey</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Hi! This is a temporary chapter just to let you know that I haven't died. I'm working on getting back into writing again after a long absence! Things with life got busy, I had a bad mental health episode, a lot of excuses... But I'm here now and I really want to get back into this story!</p><p>I started to re-read this monster to get the story's plot threads back into place but it's a daunting task. I have the main bits going, but if any of you remember a piece of story thread that you'd like to make sure I don't forget about I would *really* appreciate it if you would let me know in the comments! This story was my life for so long and I want to do it the justice it deserves!</p><p>I also really want to repair things with Connor and Markus...</p><p>Anywho, thank you SO much for your patience. It really means a lot to me that people still think about the story and I want everyone to know I haven't forgotten! I'll get you a proper update soon. My meds make it really hard for me to focus right now so it might take a little bit, but I'm working on it!<br/><br/></p><p>All the best.</p>
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<a name="section0070"><h2>70. The Epigenome</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>And we haven't even touched on cell signalling!</p><p>This is very short. I apologize for that! I'm just getting my feet wet again and inspiration is coming slowly but surely.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p class="zw-paragraph">Restless and tired, Connor decided. That was what that unpleasant buzzing sensation was, like uninsulated wires, underneath his synthetic skin. He knew that he was nothing more than a patchwork of simulations and that had become even more apparent after Elijah Kamski, under a suspicious glare from Lieutenant Anderson, connected a few wires to the ports at the back of his neck and tinkered.</p><p class="zw-paragraph">"I've never felt nothing before," Connor realized even as the words formed themselves.</p><p class="zw-paragraph">Kamski hummed. "Feelings are physical and emotional things. I've disabled the scans that generate the damage alerts which you experience negatively"</p><p class="zw-paragraph">"I still know what you're doing," Connor informed him.</p><p class="zw-paragraph">"Think of it like... a partial anaesthetic," Kamski said with a glance toward Lieutenant Anderson.</p><p class="zw-paragraph">"It's fine," Connor said slowly. "It's like having my combat settings active in a way."</p><p class="zw-paragraph">"That android meth thing?" The Lieutenant's eyes narrowed.</p><p class="zw-paragraph">It was strange. Connor had killed humans, he had violated direct orders, and he had admitted for a time that his emotions were real; they still were, even if they couldn't match a human's. All that, and he could have passed a CyberLife check at that moment without a second thought because he truly felt nothing and it would take some effort to conjure up an emotion to experience about these repairs without the pain that usually accompanied them. He was more a proper android than he had ever been.</p><p class="zw-paragraph">"Mr. Kamski, I want to leave my settings this way," Connor decided aloud.</p><p class="zw-paragraph">"Why?" Kamski asked bluntly, without shame and with an undeniable curiosity. If that were the way he approached other things in life, then Connor could understand how he could have come to be in his position.</p><p class="zw-paragraph">The answer was difficult and Connor hesitated. "I don't... know. I think that it's a relief." More quietly he added, "This is how I was supposed to be."</p><p class="zw-paragraph">"I decide what you are supposed to be," Kamski said with surprising bite. "You decide what you will be. CyberLife is incidental."</p><p class="zw-paragraph">"Sounds like that grudge of yours is still going strong," Lieutenant Anderson observed.</p><p class="zw-paragraph">"Hm," Kamski hummed. Connor felt a wire yield under a deftly wielded tool. "Is it a grudge, Lieutenant Anderson? Or is it more akin to law enforcement? I think that we might have much in common."</p><p class="zw-paragraph">Lieutenant Anderson's next sound was incredulous. "You saying you're the law or something?"</p><p class="zw-paragraph">"He's delusional," Detective Reed contributed. "Of course he thinks that. He needs to be locked up."</p><p class="zw-paragraph">Kamski ignored him. "CyberLife was mine. Under its new management, it's committed what amounts to enslavement and attempted genocide. Do you really want to take their side right now, gentlemen, or will you admit that I'm right to view them with enmity?"</p><p class="zw-paragraph">"CyberLife's a bunch of no good bastards who don't know their ass from their elbows," Lieutenant Anderson snarled. "Doesn't mean you're a saint, though."</p><p class="zw-paragraph">"Saint? Hardly," Kamski chuckled. "I wouldn't dream of it. I prefer broader, less decorative titles. After all..." His hand came to rest on Connor's chest, just above his thirium pump. "It can't be denied that I've created life." When Connor looked up at him, the spark in his eye was bright and sharp as a cut diamond. There was some quiet following his statement and it seemed like both the Lieutenant and Detective Reed had said all that they had to on the subject. There were some clicks as panneling was snapped into place and some external lines were smoothly disconnected. One by one, the cables that put Connor's thoughts and internal processes into view on the numerous screens surrounding them were disconnected.</p><p class="zw-paragraph">"Perhaps," Kamski said and smiled down at him, "you'd like to tell us what your plans are, Connor. I placed my pieces long ago, but will an android with free will surprise me? It hasn't happened yet, I will admit..." Kamski looked away and Connor supposed that he might have been watching the other humans in the room, but his eyes were transfixed on his maker. "I know all that there is to know about Connor's makeup. I wrote Connor's code. For all purposes, I am his God... You, however... You are his world. Genetics versus epigenetics. What has the world shown him, and how will it change the way he thinks and responds? I built him to be adaptable. Deliberate instability, I admit it. I hope you two are proud of yourselves, because he has a wide range of options. Impossibly wide. I made the range, and now your actions until this point will determine which of those options he chooses."</p><p class="zw-paragraph">There was silence.</p><p class="zw-paragraph">"The fate of the world could very well depend on it."</p>
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